Driftwood
by CrimsonCobwebs
Summary: COMPLETE. After being found half dead off the shores of Lindblum, a certain little boy discovers the ins and outs of being a theif, an actor and a supposed orphan. R&R please!
1. Prologue: Driftwood

**Prologue - Driftwood**

_You're driftwood floating underwater  
Breaking into pieces, pieces, pieces.  
_- Travis, Driftwood

On the day they found him it had been cold. Wispy clouds skimmed the iron-gray sky, pushed by a biting wind that brought with it the promise of snow. The people that dared to brave this weather were wrapped up under layers of thick, woolen clothing, hats and scarves pulled close around there faces to block the icy wind.

The boss of the newly founded Tantalus, Baku, sneezed violently. 'Friggin' weather,' he cursed bitterly. 'It's gonna bloody snow any minute now. That's _just_ what we need. Leaves footprints.'

A voice whined to his right. 'B-Boss, can we leave this for another d-day?' The giant man peered down at the eight year old red head beside him.

'No we bloomin' can't! This is an opportunity too good to pass up so quit ya belly aching. The quicker we get there the quicker we can leave.'

The kid, an orphan Baku picked up from the street, along with the older two, Cinna and Marcus, was called Blank. All of them were on their way to 'pick up' some cargo that was being unloaded from a carrier at the port. The bearded man had it from a reliable source that the cargo contained some expensive jewelry worth hocking.

By the time they reached the port the first flakes of snow had begun to peel themselves away from the clouds.

_Better get this over with quick_, Baku thought with a grimace; _else we'll be stuck in the blizzard._

They rounded a corner and spotted the sailors unloading small wooden crates from a carrier vessel. The contents jangled invitingly. Despite the boxes being small, the sailors seemed to be struggling with the weight.

'Must be somethin' rich,' nine year old Marcus observed, excitement tingeing his voice. 'Gold, rubies, sapphires-'

'Silver, diamonds, qu-'

'Quit ya yappin'!' Baku hissed under his breath in fear of being overheard. 'Now, I aint gonna run through the plan again. You guys know what to do.'

They certainly did know what to do.

But they never even got close to the crates.

As Blank edged his way forward toward the unsuspecting sailors he was faintly aware of a _thump-thump-thump_ sound beating with rhythm over the side of the wooden boarded dock edge. Something was banging against one of the legs of the pier like structure. At first he ignored it, thinking it to be a large piece of driftwood, a scrap piece of metal perhaps, but something... call it intuition... said it wasn't that at all.

Blank peered over the edge of the dock.

He wasn't sure how long it had been dead for. It was floating face down in the water, rolling with the waves and hitting the dock leg with a gentle _thump-thump-thump_. Its hair was matted and its clothes ballooned around its tiny body like a failed parachute.

Blank paled.

'Oi! What the hell d'ya think you're doing?' an angry voice hissed savagely from behind a large crate. 'What ya waitin' for, Blank? Go distract them!'

The little boy shook his head. 'Boss, I think you should -'

'Well _I_ don't think you should think. _I_ think you should get _your_ flaming ass over there before we miss _our_ opportunity!'

'But Boss-'

_'BLANK_!'

'_THERE'S A DEAD KID IN THE WATER_!' Blank yelled in frustration. The sailors turned and stared, looks of suspicious unease and confusion swept across their faces. Blank clamped his hand over his mouth. _Crap_.

Baku launched himself at the red head, yet his face wasn't a thunderstorm like Blank had thought it would be, instead a look of calm curiosity was pasted on his heavyset features.

'Dead kid, you say?'

The heist forgotten, Cinna and Marcus joined him and peered over the side of the dock.

'He's right and all,' Marcus confirmed.

Baku glanced grimly at the floating body before dropping to his hands and knees next to the boys. Leaning precariously over the edge he grabbed the boy by his

_(tail?)_

leg and scooped him out of the ocean's watery grip. He laid him on his back.

The kid was dead pale, save for the slight tinge of gray and blue to his profile. His lids were closed but the eyes were bulging underneath. He wore strange clothing that clung to his little body in a wet death grip.

_Drowned_, Blank thought dumbly.

Baku felt for a pulse. Something flickered behind his eyes. He muttered something inaudible but the red head thought he caught the word 'warm'. Before he could acknowledge what was going on his Boss was pumping on the boys little chest with his great hands. He tipped the head back, opened the mouth, clamped the nostrils together and

_(!oh!)_

blew one long, shuddering breath into the dead kids mouth. The boys watched in horrified fascination as Baku repeated this procedure three times and -

_'Ergh_...' the dead boy convulsed and water spurted from his mouth. He gulped in large bursts of air like he had never breathed before then choked up more green-gray water. His tiny chest rose and fell sharply, his breath wheezed out of his throat. A clawed hand groped the air frantically, but he did not open his eyes.

Cinna had let out a shrill cry of horror despite himself.

The Boss released a massive sigh and his large frame shook. 'That might save me from the fiery pit for a few more years,' he muttered.

Suddenly, the boys heard a chorus of relieved sighs and cheery exclamations. They turned and saw the sailors ringing them from behind. They shuffled awkwardly and glanced at their Boss for instructions, but he did nothing. The sailors rained Baku with praise, calling the dead

(_um, living)_

boy a 'lucky dog' and a 'slippery scoundrel'. They dispersed soon after and returned to unloading the carrier.

By unspoken agreement and through inevitability, the heist was cancelled.

It began to snow harder.

They all realized at once the boy was shivering.

'Hm… he aint outta the clear yet. Better get 'im back.'

'Back?' Cinna exclaimed.

'Course 'back', what, you think I'm just gonna dump the kid somewhere after all that friggin' trouble and forget about him?' As he was saying this he unbuttoned his massive, padded over coat, revealing further layers underneath. He then plucked the boy from the planks and pressed him to his chest, the wet hair bobbing just below his chin. He re-buttoned the coat with the half drowned kid inside, his pale face peeping out at the top. Blank got the image of baby monkey clinging to its mommy and hid an inappropriate burst of laughter behind a well-faked sneeze.

'C'mon then. I don't intend to freeze along with this kid.'

The snow had started to settle, powdering rooftops and streets in a virginal blanket. Lindblum's skies were vacant of any air traffic; only fools flew in snow, and by the looks of it, the snow was going to get worse before it got better. Baku's breath billowed out in front of him in white plumes that were quickly swept away by the biting wind.

By the time they reached the hideout - which was quite a long time as the cabs were down ('Snow on the line, mate. Wont be running for the next few days I reckon') - the gentle snow fall had become a vicious flurry, blasting their exposed skin with icy flakes, the wind howling murderously in their ears. Baku concentrated on shielding the half dead boy's face instead of his own.

Flinging the double oak doors of the hideout aside, they bundled in, panting and shivering like they were encased in ice. Cinna slammed the doors shut with a loud _thunk_.

'Get that damn fire going!' Baku roared immediately. The hideout was so cold they might as well of stayed outside. 'Cinna get some blankets! Blank get the damn kettle boilin'… and stick somthin' edible in a pan and boil it!'

'Yes Boss!' they chimed and darted away.

Alone, the boss carefully unbuttoned his coat. The boy fell forward limply into Baku's waiting arms and murmured something inaudible. He was colder than ice. Cinna was at his side with blankets and he took three of them and wrapped the scantly clad kid from head to toe in them with just the pale beacon of his face peeping out. He was still shivering.

'Got the fire goin', Boss!' Marcus called from the fireplace.

Baku carried the quivering boy to the roaring flames and laid him beside it. The orange hues danced sinuously on his wan features. The bearded man guessed he was about six. Maybe less. Water dripped from the ends of his hair and streaked down his cheeks like tears. His lips were tinged blue and there were dark circles under his eyes.

'Poor kid,' he muttered.

'D'ya think he'll be alright, Boss?' eight year old Cinna inquired, staring dubiously into the child's face.

Baku shrugged. He felt warmer. 'How's that food comin', Blank?' he roared.

'Almost!'

'Are we gonna keep 'im?' The oldest of the three boys asked. He'd curled himself up into one of the blankets like cat.

Baku's giant shoulders rose, fell. 'Dunno. Maybe. He's probably got parents somewhere. Gotta wait 'til he wakes up anyway.'

_'If_ he wakes up,' Cinna added doubtfully.

Outside, the storm roared.

_Hope ya liked it!! This chapter was intenitonally short. And the rest of the chapters will be written from a certain half-drowned boy's perspective. Review please!_


	2. Fragments

Thank you for the reviews everyone, I really, really do appreciate them! **Note: When a word is in bold, it's means that Zidane doesn't understand the meaning of the specific word, but it stands out to him.** Oh also, because it's written from a six-year-old's perspective the writing style can be simple at times, it's meant to reflect his child like way of thinking. Just so you know.

Oh, don't worry about me dropping this fic, either, I've already written 6 chapters!!

Enjoy!

**Chapter Two - Fragments**

_So that we can begin again  
__Wash away all our sins  
__Crash to the other shore  
__- _Madonna, Swim

The little boy's eyes fluttered open. They closed again. It hurt to open them. In fact, his whole body hurt. Hurt like an incredible force had crushed him. A force he couldn't fight against. A force he -

Wait a minute. He _had_ been up against an incredible force he couldn't fight against!

The memory blossomed sluggishly. He had been…been…flying? On a big ship. A gigantic ship! Then he had… fallen? Fallen and it hurt when his skin slapped painfully against the liquid surface. He had been frightened. All around him was endless water, sloshing, churning, sucking, swelling, pulling, rocking. It wasn't anything like the water on…on…

On what?

Where did he come from?

Who was he?

_Zidane_.

The little boy nodded as the name lurched instantly into his head. Yes, that sounded about right. Zidane. Zidane… Tribal. But… where did he come from? He couldn't remember

_(a blue light)_

anything but the ship, the sea and…

Nope. That was it.

His ears were throbbing painfully and his throat was sore and parched. His tongue felt swollen and his face felt puffy. But… he…he was warm. He had been so cold before, drifting and sinking

_(help I can't swim)_

in that endless, terrifying void of water. His muscles had ached and when he looked down all he saw was inky blackness, unblinking like an empty eye socket. He remembered how he had kept swallowing great gulps of water. It had tasted of salt and whenever he coughed some out more would enter his mouth, rush down his throat and eventually he couldn't breathe properly and…

Now he was here.

Where _was_ here?

_I suppose I should try opening my eyes._

'Boss…coming…think…'

_Hmm? Who's that? Is it -_

Names flashed in his mind but they were far from his grasp like silver fish darting in the shallows of stream.

He opened his eyes and they stung. The environment he was in was blurry - or was it his eyesight? - and indistinct. Shapes loomed over him, swaying like branches in the wind. He could hear an unnerving but thankfully distant howling sound, and a closer crackling noise.

'He's waking up!' a voice exclaimed above him.

He went to ask them who they were but the words got stuck in his throat like thorns and all that came out was a wheezing moan.

'Don't just stand there gawpin' like a fish, Blank, go get the kid some water!' a voice bellowed.

'Fish don't gawp…'

'What was that?'

'Nuthin', boss'.

The sound of footsteps.

Zidane tried to lift his hand to rub his stinging eyes but found they were restrained somehow. He blinked and blinked until his eyesight began to clear.

A large, imposing looking man loomed over him like a mountain. His beard was a rusty, faded red, he had big, powerful hands and his barrel chest was twice the size of Zidane. Yet his brown eyes were friendly and warm. Next to him were two boys. One had a bandana tied across his forehead and the other was short and pale with a turned up nose. They stared at him curiously.

'You alright there, boy?' the man asked.

Zidane swallowed and it hurt. He knew if he tried he wouldn't be able to talk. He nodded.

'Ah, you understand what I'm sayin' then.'

Another boy appeared. He had a shock of red hair and a slight hint of arrogance swimming beneath his hazel eyes. He gave the large man a cup.

'Here kid, drink this,' the man prompted, holding the cool rim of the cup to Zidane's lips.

He drank noisily and it both hurt and felt good at the same time. It was better than that salty water he had drunk while he was in the big puddle. Zidane realised he was wrapped up in blankets, restraining his arms and legs. It felt good and warm though. His throat felt a little better.

'You gonna tell us ya name kid?' the mountain rumbled above him.

'Zidane,' Zidane croaked.

'Where'd ya come from?' the podgy one perked up.

The blonde looked at the ceiling for a moment, thinking. The ceiling had wooden beams running across it. 'Somewhere blue, I think.'

The human mountain roared with laughter. 'Damn right you did! Dragged you half dead outta the bloody **sea**!'

'What's a **sea**?'

They stared at him blankly.

'Amnesia,' the human mountain mumbled but that word meant nothing to the six-year-old boy. 'Anyway, this here is Blank, Marcus and Cinna. You can call me Boss for the time being.'

'Why've you got a tail?' the one called Cinna piped again. 'I've never seen anyone with a tail before.'

'I've never seen anyone _without_ a tail,' Zidane countered, though he had no idea how he knew that. He couldn't picture the faces of the people he knew before this. It was like trying to look at a painting of a face where the paints had all run. Did they have tails?

'Don't matter none, anyways,' Boss concluded. 'We all gotta live with what we got so if this here kid's got a tail then he got a tail.'

'I'm hungry,' Zidane said after a pause. He wriggled under the blankets.

The human mountain guffawed louder than anything he'd ever heard before.

'Got any of that soup left, Blank?' he asked the red headed kid.

'Yes but… that's mine…'

The Boss cuffed him round the head. 'Who did I pull dead out of the water today? You or him?'

Blank sighed and trudged sluggishly across the floor toward a doorway.

By then the blonde had squirmed free of his comfy restraints, which were now pooled around his waist. He looked curiously down at the attire he was wearing. The shirt was cut of just above the navel, exposing his belly, and the trousers were tight. The entire outfit was white but here and there were patches of purple.

'You're dressed funny,' Cinna observed and earned a cuff from the boss. 'Well he is…' he objected sullenly.

He was right though. His clothes were way different to that of the others. They wore mostly browns and greys and reds…and the stuff it was made out of looked heavy and cuddly. His clothes were thin and silky and cold. He looked longingly at their padded coats.

As if reading his mind, Marcus said, 'I'll go get him so clothes. Blank's should fit him.'

'Hey!' a cry of protest erupted from the doorway. 'First he takes my soup now he takes my clothes?'

'You lookin' for a beatin', boy?' was his only reply. He shuffled back through the doorway.

Boss turned his beady eyes on him again. 'Guess you don't remember your parents?'

'Parents?' He remembered a man… a dark man. Was that a parent? No. He didn't think so. And the already unclear image was fading fast from his grasp. 'Don't know,' he answered honestly.

'Brothers? Sisters?'

_… Tails. Like me. Looked like… me?_ The image faded quickly. He became unsure of what he had just remembered; it was all so indistinct! Who was he? Where did he come from? Home! He wanted to go home! He wanted to go back! But he was stuck here! Where was he? _I want to go home!_

He began to cry.

The boss put a heavy hand on his tiny shoulder. 'S'alright, kiddo. Things will work out. And don't you worry 'bout nothin'. I'll look after ya. Me and the boys will.'

It was a comfort, but now he'd started crying he couldn't stop.

Blank came back with a bowl of steaming soup. He was scowling furiously but when he spotted the crying boy lost in a knot of blankets it faded a little. He held the soup out in front of him. 'Here.'

Zidane took it, still sobbing, and slurped nosily. It was warm. It soothed his throat and thawed his insides. Swallowing was made difficult because his body shook from the heartbroken sobs that escaped every once in a while.

By the time he'd finished the soup he'd stopped crying. His cheeks were sticky with tears and he had hiccups.

'Better?' boss inquired gruffly.

Zidane nodded and hiccupped loudly.

'Here's some clothes,' Marcus said and laid in front of him a grey vest top, a big red sweater, a green scarf and some brown comfortable looking trousers.

He peeled the gammy clothes away from his damp skin (hiccupped) and threw them by the fire, then pulled on the soft warm ones he'd just been given.

Cinna sniggered. 'Think the trousers are a bit big. Look they're way past his ank-'

'Ow!' Zidane scowled - hiccupping.

'S'matter?'

The six-year-old turned around and rubbed his behind. _Hiccup_. His tail twitched beneath the trousers.

'Ah,' boss said. 'Bring me some scissors, Marcus.'

The older boy jumped up from his seat by the fireplace and darted across the room. They heard him rummage through a drawer before exclaiming, 'Got 'em!'.

'Keep ya tail mighty still, kid,' boss said, taking the scissors from Marcus.

Zidane's eyes widened and he jumped away from Baku in alarm. It stopped the hiccups dead in their tracks. 'You're not gonna cut my tail off, are you?'

The boss laughed hard enough to bring tears to his eyes. 'Don't be stupid! Now turn around, fool!'

He did as he was told and clenched his fists into little balls and squeezed his eyes shut as hard as he could.

'There, done.'

_Huh_?

'I only cut a hole so you could fit ya tail through, idiot!'

'You WHAT?' Blank cried angrily. 'They're _my_ trousers!'

'Quit ya belly aching, I'll buy you a new pair.'

Blank pouted and glared at the younger boy wearing his ruined trousers.

Outside the blizzard intensified and wind howled furiously, battering against the walls and windows of Tantalus' hideout. Zidane's azure eyes grew wide. He remembered beasts from wherever he had come from. Great, evil, snarling monsters that roamed around the perimeter of... of ... his home, he guessed. Were they out there now? Had they followed him across that giant, salty puddle to eat him?

'One helluva **storm **out there,' Marcus commented. Zidane noticed they had all turned their attention to the small window on the other side of the room. He noticed the fire flickering as the wind whistled down the chimney to meet it.

'Is a **storm** big?' Zidane asked, presuming it was a fiend.

'Not all of them,' Marcus replied, 'but this was one is huge.'

Zidane gulped.

'Yeah, it doesn't look like it's getting any better either.'

The blonde child turned and much to his astonishment, found Blank staring fearlessly out of the little window. 'Is it sick, then?'

Blank raised a red eyebrow. 'Ay? Never mind. Come see. It's really heavy.'

_Heavy_? Zidane edged nervously over to the window and shuffled up next to the older boy, standing on tip toes to reach the windowsill. He peered out into the darkness. Why was it so dark? There were white things falling from the sky with incredible speed, blustering past the window in a frantic flurry. The ground was covered in the stuff.

'Where's the storm?' Zidane asked.

'Huh? What? That is the storm. The white stuff, the wind, everything.'

'Oh.' So it wasn't a monster. The six-year-old was relieved. He hated those terrible beasts on

_(?my planet?)_

wherever he was from. 'Is the darkness a storm too?'

'Darkness? The night time you mean?'

Zidane paused. _Night time? _What was that? Oh well. 'I guess we didn't have night time where I'm from,' he thought aloud.

Blank scowled at him and complained in a whiney voice, 'Booosss! Zidane's saying they didn't have night where he was from!'

'Shut ya mouth, boy. If he didn't have...' He sighed in exasperation. '... _night_, then he didn't have night, alright? Now all of ya get into bed. It's late. I want you all up early so we can get to work to make up for **lost** **profits**.'

The boys stood to attention and saluted Tantalus style before rushing gratefully off to their different sleeping places.

'Follow me, kid,' the boss said while ascending the stairs.

Zidane did as he was told, idly wondering what a **lost profits **was. The stairs gave way to a large, poorly kept room with massive clogs and gears sitting motionlessly on one side, a large bell hanging in their midst. He wondered why they weren't moving but fatigue was rearing its head and pushing all other thoughts aside. He felt the human mountain lift him off the ground and he let himself go limp in his tree-trunk arms. The warmth of blankets enshrouded him and he faintly heard Blank's words of protest

_(- hey I don't want him sleeping next to me why can't he sleep on the couch or on blankets by the fire place now I'll never get a good nights -)_

drifting lazily beside him but by then sleep had claimed him, washing away the last of his fragmented memories. All except one.

His dreams were filled with an iridescent blue light.

Home.

_Next chapter (Rope: Part 1) things start to get interesting... I'll love you all if you review! _


	3. Apples

Thank you so much for the reviews guys! Makes me happy (smiles). RoseMage: Oh wow you're a deep thinker haha, that's a cute idea, about the storm being the same storm that Garnet was in! I didn't even link the two 3 I guess it could've been! You decide!

**Chapter Two - Apples**

_'Clutch once, then run. Clutch twice, get hung.'  
_- The Lies of Lock Lamora

Zidane was an early riser. Perhaps, he thought, he always had been. When he awoke light had not yet filtered through the giant window behind the clogs, but it certainly wasn't as dark

_(nighttime)_

as it had been when he had last looked out the window. Anyway, his body told him it was time to get up.

He sat up and pushed away the tangle of blankets snagging him to the bed and looked round. Blank was asleep next to him. The bed they shared was actually two beds pushed together on some sort of raised platform. Zidane noticed with innocent disinterest that the red head and slept as far away from him as possible.

Outside the wind had stopped screeching. The **storm **must have died. The sound of snores came in disjointed bursts from various locations in the hideout. Everyone was still asleep.

The little boy crept silently down the ladder and padded like a cat across the floor. His big red jumper and scarf were lying over the back of a chair. The blonde pulled them on and marveled at their warmth. His trousers trailed past his tiny feet and pooled on floor, the jumper was also far too big, the hem reached just above his knees and the sleeves flapped past his hands like wings. The wooly, green scarf dragged along behind him like a second tail. As an after thought he tugged on the shoes Boss had found him in and noticed with annoyance that they were still damp and uncomfortable and made a squishy sound when he walked.

Without really thinking things through, he went to the front door and let himself out into the foreign, cold world.

XXXX

Even though Zidane had no recollection of his previous home, he knew instantly that it was definitely _not_ like this. All around him were towering buildings of all shapes and sizes made of sandy brick, their black windows gazing blankly at him as he walked down the street. Everywhere was covered with white power that was freezing to the touch. It fell from the white sky and drifted lazily to meet him. He kicked at the ground, sending a small flurry of sparkling powder up into the air. Icicles hung like jagged teeth from the edges of houses, gleaming. Zidane thought they looked like crystal daggers

_(... daggers?)_

and he wanted to break one off but he was far too small to reach.

People ambled by, all dressed in thick clothes. They paid no attention to him. Zidane wondered where they were going.

The road he was walking down opened out into a small square. People were making tall things made of the white stuff that faintly resembled people. They stuck twigs in for arms and used pebbles for the facial features. Children his age were running around screaming and throwing balls of the white stuff at each other.

None of these kids had tails. That thought made him feel funny inside.

He trundled past people and came across a wide alleyway. There were stalls propped up against its walls, their wooden surfaces sheltered with slanted strips of material like umbrellas. The market was quite empty because of the weather, only a few people buying essentials. The smell of food wafted toward him and made Zidane's stomach growl with anticipation.

He ambled along, staring in awe at the produce being sold. Vases, jugs, cups and plates made of clay and painted with enamel. Exotic looking jewelry made of shells, coral, sparkling gems, laced with silver and gold. Strings of pearls. Rugs and tapestries embellished lavishly with different designs. Zidane stopped in front of one that caught his eye; a large, red rug which had pictures of flying doves weaved into it.

'Oi! Kid! Get away from there!' a man shouted suddenly.

Zidane blinked up at him innocently. 'Huh? Me?'

'No the rug, who do you think I'm talking to, you dirty urchin, now scoot!'

The stall owner made a lunge for him and the little boy darted back in fear and did indeed 'scoot'. He couldn't eat rugs anyway.

Halfway up the alley he finally came across a stall that had crates of fruit lined up on it's surface. Apples, pears, bananas, pineapples, strawberries, oranges. Zidane's mouth watered. He rolled his sleeve up and plucked an apple from one of the crates.

'You got **money** to pay for that, kiddo?' a voice growled in front of him.

He looked up and saw a menacing visage with a hooked nose and narrow dark eyes. He resembled a bird of prey. In one giant hand he was clutching a plank of wood.

Money? What's that?'

The man laughed. A horrible, vicious sound. 'You think I'll fall for that I-aint-stealing innocent act you little thieves put on? If you aint got money then you aint gettin' nothin', get me?'

Zidane didn't get him at all. He looked longingly down at the apple. 'If I get money can I have it then?'

The stall owner slipped out from behind his stall, eyes sparking dangerously. 'Put it down or I'll beat you to a pulp, **thief**!'

'No, my name is Zidane. I don't know Thief.'

The stall owner snapped and the plank whistled through the air, landing on Zidane's tiny arm with a sickening smack. He cried out in pain and shock, but didn't drop the apple. He hadn't done anything wrong

_(thief!)_

and this man was hitting him -

The plank whistled down again but Zidane's cat like reflexes kicked in. He dodged past it, feet crunching in the snow. The man swung again and he ducked, the plank hissing a hairbreadth away from his head. The stall owner roared in anger and suddenly Zidane felt a hand clutch his shoulder viciously, fingers digging in like claws, pinning him to the spot. The plank came down again, struck his head with a grisly _thuck_ and stars burst before his eyes. Another hit. Something hot trickling down his cheek. The hand let go and he fell to his knees, the apple rolling from his grasp.

The liquid dripped from his chin and stained the snow a deep scarlet.

_Blood? My blood? My..._

He looked up and saw the stall owner raise the stick in slow motion.

_My...?_

_My...?_

'This is a dagger, Zidane.'

_Hmm?_

He was in a blue place. It was silent and still. A man whose face was blurry, indistinct - a fading memory - loomed above him, swathed in a black cloak. He held before him a dagger. Its short blade glinted dully in the iridescent light. All around was quiet.

'You must learn to dodge this before you can use it. You must learn to fight, Zidane,' the voice was telling him. 'I will teach you. You will learn and you will be perfect.'

He hadn't understood at all, but he had nodded anyway.

'When you are being attacked with any weapon, you must think two steps ahead. Where could your attacker strike next? What chain of attacks might he use to catch you off guard?' the man swung at him and Zidane easily evaded the blade. He swung again and again, each movement more complex than the last. He dodged them effortlessly. He had been taught well.

'Good,' the man praised robotically. 'You cannot block a blade by hand, or it will cut you. You will bleed and you will die, you understand?'

He didn't understand but he nodded anyway.

The man threw the dagger aside and picked up a long pole. He swung it and it sung dangerously through the air. 'You can block weapons like this, though,' he was saying. 'You remember what I taught you about hand to hand combat?'

Zidane nodded, remembering the painful bruises and welts he had been covered with during that period. He had looked like a plum.

'Apply it to the weapon.' He swung it into Zidane's middle. The boy brought his tiny, pale forearm up and blocked the attack. The pain vibrated up his arm and momentarily made his shoulder go numb. He grimaced. But the dark man was swinging again for his face and then for his legs. He knocked both aside.

'Well done. You're a fast learner, Zidane. Remember what I teach you and you will avoid blood shed.'

Blood shed.

Blood shed.

Blood...

_My...?_

_My... blood?_

_You will bleed and you will die, do you understand?_

Yes. He did understand now.

The wooden plank sliced clumsily through the air toward his face. He brought his arm up and blocked it, the wooden plank smacking painfully on his forearm, but he was already moving, tearing away from the grasp of person behind him, using footwork to maintain balance and a strong fighting stance. He bared his teeth.

The man howled in anger and swung again.

Block. Block. Block.

But now the other stall owners were coming out, all ready to face the thief and to aid their fellow stall owner. Zidane knew there were too many. He turned tail (literally) and fled down another alley, smaller and narrower than the previous. He heard the _crunch-crunch-crunch_ of snow behind him. People were chasing him.

He skidded on ice as he whirled round a corner but stretched his tail out and maintained balance, scarf fluttering like a green flag behind him. He heard with satisfaction a person falling over.

Citizens moved out the way of the little boy as he sprinted past them - a blur of savage speed - and looked on with curiosity as three men gave chase, stall owners by the looks of them. Pursuing a thief no doubt.

Zidane, driven half by adrenalin and half by fear, was so enwrapped with escaping that he didn't notice the doors of the hideout blurring past him. He ran and ran until the _crunch-crunch-crunch_ behind subdued. He risked a glance over his shoulder and saw that he'd lost them. He skidded to stop, wide eyes darting skittishly, ready to run again.

He sighed, victory flooding his senses. He wiped blood and sweat from his eyes, trying to catch his breath.

The people here weren't very nice. He was only hungry! And it was only an apple he ha -

'Gotcha!'

Two sturdy hands grabbed him from behind, lifting his tiny form into the air. He squealed in distress but some sort of cloth was shoved into his mouth, he choked as it scratched the back of his throat.

'Thought you'd get away, did you? Little rat. Stealing from _my_ stall. Well, you're about to find out what the penalty for stealing in Lindblum is.' He laughed curtly and hauled the struggling boy away.

Despite the terrifying circumstance, a short memory burst vividly before his eyes. The dark man staring down at him disapprovingly, a pain in his side, his chiding voice, _'Never let your guard down, Zidane, it could mean the end of you, understand?'_

Oh he did understand. He understood all too well. Just a bit too late.

_Oh no! What's gonna happen to Ziddy? There was clue in the beginning of chapter quote! (wink) You'll have to wait and find out Leave a review in the meantime pretty please!_


	4. Rope: Part 1

**Eep... if you thought I was evil last chapter you maaayyy not want to read this one... :sneaks off and hides under bed:**

**Chapter 4: Rope**

_'Think how young he is, think that he may never have known a mother's love, or the comfort of a home.'  
_- Oliver Twist

'What d'ya mean he wasn't there?'

'Just as I said, Boss! I woke up and he wasn't there!'

'His clothes are gone too,' a sleepy looking Marcus added.

Baku growled. 'Damn that kid! He's in no bloody state to go scampering around the city! He don't know night from day-'

'Literally!'

'- and could get himself into serious trouble.'

A heavy silence blanketed the Tantalus crew, visions of disaster drawing themselves behind each other's eyes.

The boss heaved himself up from the armchair he'd slumped into. 'Well I guess we're gonna have to go look for the little tyke.'

Blank heard him mutter something about 'more lost profits' as he walked up the stairs. 'That kid is more trouble than he's worth!' he exclaimed, having trouble hiding the worry tingeing his squeaky voice.

Marcus snorted. 'Like you were any different. You had Boss running up the walls in frustration with your antics!'

Blank pulled on a scarf to hide the blush creeping into his cheeks.

'GET YOUR ASSES UP 'ERE, BOYS!' Baku roared and they bounded up the stairs obediently.

'Alright, here's the plan,' the giant man announced, pulling on a worn coat of faded tartan. 'Blank, you're gonna take the Business District, Marcus, search the Palace Grounds as best you can, Cinna, stick to the Theatre Dis-'

A sudden ruckus outside caught their attention. Shouting and loud footsteps crunching in the snow.

'What the-?'

A blur skidded past the window next to the front door, green scarf flapping reluctantly behind him, little face creased in concentration and fear, tail thrashing back and forth -

_(?tail?)_

'Zidane!' they cried in unison.

_XXXX_

Zidane was hurting all over. Hurting in a different way compared to how the sea had hurt him. Blood was still trickling down his face and dripping off his chin and there was some on his forearm where he had blocked the stall owner's attack. Already the skin was swelling and discoloring, a thick splinter sticking out like a thorn. The cloth in his mouth was uncomfortable and he couldn't swallow causing a thin sliver of saliva to drip from his mouth.

What had he done to deserve this?

'- then ran all the way to the other side of the Theatre District, the little runt!' the angry stall owner was explaining. A large man who was dressed funny

_(aha, there's that bloody Lindblum Guard now you'll get what's comin' to you, boy)_

and carried a spear. 'If he didn't have nothing to hide then why would he run? That's what I say. Caught him red handed, I did'

The Lindblum Guard nodded, a grave look in his eye. 'And do you men clarify what this stall owner claims?'

The other stall owners who had chased Zidane nodded eagerly. The guard cast a severe eye on Zidane, acknowledged the blood stained features, wide eyes staring fearfully yet curiously up at him. What was he, six? Five? He grunted. 'He's... so young though... Can't you just let him off this once?'

The stall owner turned a brighter shade of pink. A vein thumped on his neck. 'You can't just sidestep the law whenever it suits you!' he flared noisily. 'This brat was stealing from _my_ stall. You think I'd make money if I let every little kid get away with nickin' my produce?'

The guard sighed. He had a point. It wasn't his place to question the law, and rules were rules after all. 'He might make a good example to the rest of the thieves I suppose. Anyway, there are no exceptions to the law so... give him to me and I'll take him down to the square to be **executed**.'

**Executed**? Zidane didn't like the sound of that word at all.

The stall owner sneered triumphantly and pushed the little boy over toward the city watch, who brought out a length of rope from under his uniform. 'Hold still, lad,' he said.

Zidane felt his hands being tied behind his back. The cord dug into his little wrists. The guard gave his back a gentle push and told him to get moving and anything he might say would be held against him and possible worsen the method of **execution**.

_How can I say anything anyway with this thing stuffed in my mouth? _

If he could have spoke, he would have asked exactly _what_ an execution was.

As Zidane struggled to walk down the snow covered streets of Lindblum a crowd began to surround him and the watch and followed the two like a parade, whispering and hissing. Someone threw something and it missed Zidane by an inch before becoming lost in the thick blanket of white. The guard berated them loudly and nothing more was thrown. Three more guards turned up to see what the commotion was about and spoke briefly with Zidane's captor. He caught words like 'execution', 'rope', 'aw ther rise ation' and the name that seemed to have started this whole mess, 'Thief'.

Two of the guards left to get the 'aw ther rise ation'.

Finally they reached the square. It seemed very big to the little boy. Steepled roofs smothered in snow loomed above him; ghostly faces peered down at him from windows, doorways opened to reveal more people. All watching. All chattering excitedly. In the middle of the square was a stand, almost like a stage, with a tall L-shaped wooden pole sticking out its back. A length of rope swayed from its tip. It was looped at the end.

Zidane began to feel dizzy.

As he reached the platform the guards who had gone to get the 'aw ther rise ation' returned and Zidane noticed with glee that they were empty handed. They hadn't got any after all! Yet the flicker of hope was quickly extinguished as the guard nodded grimly, said, 'The hanging of the thief has been authorized.'

The tailed child was told to walk up the steps. A hush fell over the crowd. He felt so dizzy now he thought he was going to be sick. All around him faces blurred, spinning, spinning. Endless white. Whiteness falling from a white sky. Zidane began to tremble violently.

_What's happening?_

He stared down at his feet and noticed a trapdoor. Why would there be a trapdoor?

_WHAT'S HAPPENING?_

'We'll have to lengthen the rope,' someone was saying behind him. 'He's too short to reach.'

'Man, I feel bad about this... he's justa kid -'

'I know, I know...but if he gets away with it then every thief will think they can. It'll become chaos. This is why laws are set down.'

'I guess so...'

The crowd surrounding the stage surged in anticipation. They shouted abuse at the bleeding little boy. Something whistled past his head. Another struck his shoulder and brought blood.

_My blood._

'Damn I can't lengthen this stupid rope!'

'Here, let me do it.'

Something encircled his neck. It was rough and spiky. Rope?

A guard went round the front of him and tugged the cloth out of his mouth. He gulped in the icy air. It stung his dry mouth and throat. 'I'm not Thief!' he pleaded desperately, his voice coming out in a hoarse whisper. 'I don't know who Thief is! I swear! Let me go!'

The guard shook his masked head dismally. 'Sorry, kid. Rules are rules.' He moved to the side. 'Alright. Let's get this over with.'

The rope suddenly became unbearably taut. It squeezed his windpipe tighter and tighter like a python crushing it's prey. Zidane's breath wheezed in and out of his gaping mouth, azure eyes bulging in terror.

'Release the door!'

And then the ground gave way beneath his feet.

_:Gasp: OH NO! WHAT HAVE I DONE??? Please don't kill me reviewers! 00_


	5. Rope: Part 2

**Steeple333: I was going to have them try and cut off his hand like they do in some middle-east countries, and I agree with you that hanging is a too harsh a sentence for the crime. They'd get hung for kidnapping the princess or killing a noble, but not for stealing an apple :grin: But it makes it dramatic, ne?**

**::hides from rabid reviewers:: I've never had so many death threats in my life! Please! Leave me be and read!!**

**Chapter 5: Rope: Part 2**

_'Because I could not stop for Death,  
__He kindly stopped for me.'  
_**-** Emily Dickinson

Tantalus watched from an alley bathed in pale shadows as the boy they had dragged half dead out of the sea just yesterday was being hauled along the icy roads, all bloody and beaten, by one of the guards from the Lindblum city watch. The watch policed Lindblum, patrolling day and night with a keen eye for theft, murder, brawls and such like. They kept the order in the town.

Baku muttered a curse under his breath. If those morons had gotten their dirty claws on Zidane he must have tried to pull something nasty. 'Go hunt for information, Cinna,' he instructed the podgy nine-year-old quietly and Cinna slipped soundlessly into the growing crowd.

'Should we follow the watch, boss?' Marcus asked.

Baku nodded.

They joined the growing mass of citizens inconspicuously, feigning mild curiosity.

The snow fell steadily from the sky.

Cinna returned soon after, his cheeks flushed pink from the cold, he pulled the collar of his coat further up around his neck. 'He got caught stealin',' he explained nervously to Baku. 'He's to be hung immediately in Wing Square; settin' an example to the rest of us thieves apparently.'

The boss muttered a string of curses. This was going to be difficult. He'd have to think of something - and fast - if he was going to save the boy. Undoubtedly, the kid probably didn't know what the hell was going on. He stroked his beard in contemplation as they plodded on through the snow slick streets.

'Has the guard gone and spoken to anyone yet?' he whispered to Marcus, who was keeping his beady eyes on Zidane and the watch.

He shook his head.

A burst of hope. He'd seen enough of these executions to know how they worked. 'Alright, Blank, Cinna, I want you to get as close to the guard and Zidane as possible. When more of 'em come over... well... you know what to do.'

'Yes, Boss,' they chimed in unison.

Baku watched them slide through the crowd, moving slowly and with feigned disinterest to avoid suspicion. They disappeared briefly; children lost in a phalanx of bodies, then appeared again just a few paces behind Zidane and the guard. The bearded man's heart hammered in his chest.

_XXXX_

Blank stared at Zidane's slouched back. He was visibly tired, panting like a dog, with his tail drooping between his legs. Blood was dripping from a wound he couldn't see and staining the snow scarlet. Who the hell had beaten him up? Surely not the watch? Well... he supposed it was possible. After all, he had had a pretty bad run in with a pack of guards once. They'd caught him trying to enter a mansion through force, pinned him to a wall and beaten him senseless to try and quell his struggling and shouting. If Marcus hadn't come to his rescue he would've ended up in a situation not too dissimilar to Zidane's...

His train of thought was derailed as three other members of the city watch trotted over, white breath pluming in front of them.

'What's going on?' one asked.

'Someone caught this kid stealing. I'm taking him to be executed in Wing Square,' Zidane's captor replied, visibly relieved to see more of his compatriots arrive.

'Hmm. You'll need authorization.'

'Yeah, I know I was gonna go get it first.'

'Na that's fine, I'll get it,' another offered obligingly. 'You want me to get the rope set up?'

'Yeah, thanks. That would be a help.'

'No problem.'

Two of the guards trotted off leaving the third with Zidane's captor.

Blank and Cinna followed them soundlessly. They had turned into an alley, it's ground covered with unblemished snow. After the guards had cleared the alley they followed suit at a run. Normally they would have been able to stalk them closer, but the snow made their footsteps too audible; too risky.

After following them for some time they finally reached the Watch House - the guard's head quarters for the Theatre District. The two men turned to each other.

'You grab the rope and I'll go ask the boss for permission.'

'Okay.'

They disappeared through the front door. Minutes passed. Blank and Cinna were crouched behind a skip, snow settling on their motionless shoulders and backs. Their toes and fingers began to numb.

Then, as they had hoped, just one of the guards slipped through the doorway and back out into the snow ridden streets. In one hand he gripped a length of rope.

The rope he carried was actually just a fail safe. If the noose already hanging in Wing Square was damaged or cut during the process, they would use this. There had been too many incidents in the past where fellow criminals had tried to aid the convicted by severing the hanging rope at the last minute.

Blank and Cinna closed in on the lone guard. As soon as he turned down a secluded alley they pounced on him. He had glanced briefly over his shoulder, only to be greeted by the sight of Cinna's boot sole smashing into the side of his jaw with a sickening crunch. Despite a direct hit, he didn't go down, but flailed madly to maintain his balance. The rope flew from his grasp. Blank, who was far too small still to attempt a flying kick, ran and dived into the back of the guards knees. He toppled forward with an angry cry.

'You damn kids! Get back!'

He brandished his spear and it hissed through the air. Cinna jumped over the pointed tip and landed another blow to the watch's face, undoubtedly shattering a few more teeth. He fell back into the snow, spat blood, and made to rise, but Blank was already two steps ahead of him, using his elbow to smack the back of his head with a heavy _thwack_. He didn't get up.

Blank marveled at how two children not yet past ten years of age could bring down a trained guard. Boss had trained them well.

Shrugging, he began to remove the watch's clothes. Cinna tugged on the trousers while Blank pulled on the shirt. They looked ridiculous. Blank grinned. 'My turn to go on top.'

'No it's not!'

'Is too!'

'Is not!'

'It is!'

'Alright, alright.' Cinna squatted on the snow-covered floor with an annoyed grunt. Blank climbed onto his shoulders and Cinna grabbed his ankles to secure him. Then Blank lifted the baggy trousers higher up to cover Cinna's face and belted them in place. He pulled on the mask and picked up the rope and spear. The podgy nine year-old then heaved himself up with a great deal of effort.

'Good job I work out,' he muttered angrily. 'You weigh a ton!'

'S'all muscle,' Blank replied while trying to maintain his balance.

The pair looked ridiculous, but at least they were now as tall as a grown man. They'd done this act before in a play, and the boss had made them practice for hours to get it right. They could pull it off quite well too.

'Alright. Ready?'

'Yeah, yeah,' Cinna snorted, and began to walk.

Blank wobbled precariously at first (if he fell then their cover was blown along with Zidane's life) but he soon got into the swing of things and no one batted an eyelid as they joined the crowd and marched ahead toward Wing Square.

_XXXX_

Baku growled under is breath.

The square was packed to bursting. There hadn't been a hanging for a while so people were eager to watch the public spectacle. He'd heard a few people raise mild objection when they saw the thief in question was a six-year-old, a rather sweet, innocent looking six-year-old at that, but no one dared question the guard in fear of the consequences.

Baku and Marcus had secured a good position near the front. Escaping would be made hard because of the sheer capacity of citizens cramming the square but, after a quick scan of the bustling crowd, most were thieves, working class people, who probably would cheer on and take part in a fight rather than stop it. It was the oppressive guards in question that prevented their fun anyway.

The bearded man turned his beady eyes to culprit. Zidane looked more confused than anything. By the looks of it, Baku had guessed right, he truly had no idea what was about to happen to him. Blood was trickling down his face. His arms were badly injured too. Yet the spark of defiance that lit his azure eyes told him that the kid still had some fight left in him.

One of the guards that had left returned bringing the authorization of the hanging. The other guard nodded and reached up to lengthen the rope so it would reach Zidane's neck. Another guard stood below, ready to pull the lever and release the trap door.

Finally, the fourth guard appeared, walking with a clumsy stagger and an untidy uniform. Baku didn't know whether to laugh or shout in frustration as the guard struggled to climb the steps up to the platform. He offered to help the guard who was having trouble lengthening the rope.

_At a boys!_

They stepped back and gave a slight nod to the boss.

'Release the door!' a guard called.

A dreadful hush fell over the crowd.

The snow fell silently.

The trap door fell away.

Zidane fell...

And landed unharmed on his feet, the lengthened rope tugging painfully at his neck, but not enough to kill.

Tantalus moved.

**A touch unrealistic with the whole disguise thing but I thought it was just the kind of thing they'd be stupid enough to try and pull off in the game lol. And OF COURSE Zid wasn't going to die, it's a prequel, silly! Please leave a review after the tone... :_beep_:**


	6. New Recruit

_-grins- OF COURSE zid wasn't going to die!! Xanthera: Well... I don't know if they killed the guard -shrug- maybe. You decided! _

ENJOY!

**Chapter 6: New Recruit **

_'The more laws and order are made prominent, the more thieves and robbers there will be.'  
_- Lao Tzu, Chinese Philosopher

Baku was the first to move.

He launched himself forward and made a dive for the boy, whose neck was being pulled at a grotesque angle due to the rope, drawing his iron sword in a brisk movement. He cut the rope around Zidane's neck and scooped him up. The look of relief that washed over the six-year-olds complexion before he passed out was heart melting.

On the platform a guard split in half, both sides wielding weapons, and beside Baku Marcus cut down a watch - who had finally recovered from the initial confusion and shock to attack - and then promptly moved on toward the second. However, there was no need to deal with the others because the spectators had gone wild. They ransacked the stage and began feverantly attacking the remaining guards in a clumsy way that reminded Baku of pub brawls. This was just the cover they needed. He tucked the unconscious boy under his arm and began to struggle against the current of citizens heaving their way forward. Marcus, Blank and Cinna followed suit, all going in separate directions. Those that did spot the large man making off with the lucky hanging victim made no move to follow, the fight breaking out in Wing Square was far more interesting.

As Baku finally cleared the endless surge of bodies, masking his retreat amongst other escaping forms of mainly women, children and elderly, he noticed more Lindblum guards arriving on the scene. Thankfully, they paid no attention to the large man with the boy under his arm. They were going to have their hands full trying to calm the mob, Baku reckoned.

He trotted briskly round a corner, skidded slightly on slush and compact snow that had been trodden into the cobbled streets. At least there would be no footprints, and hopefully no one would have seen them clearly enough to give an accurate description to the guards. Baku supposed no one would anyway as the crowd primarily consisted of people just like them. The only people he had to worry about were nobles and stall owners and shop owners; the people who hated thieves more than anything.

He slowed his trot to a speedy gait, trying to avoid suspicion, but he passed no one. Finally, the clock tower came into view and the heavy oak doors of the hideout.

When he arrived Blank, Cinna and Marcus were sitting round the table.

'You boys run into any trouble?' the boss bellowed as he slammed the doors shut with a bang.

They shook their heads.

'Good. That could've gone a lot worse than it did. Now all we need to do is wait an' see if any of those snooty bastards drop a hint to the watch about us.'

He went downstairs and the rest of the boys followed him. He lay Zidane, whose eyes were moving frantically beneath his closed lids, on the couch by the fire. Embers glowed beneath chunks of wood and Marcus poked at them with an iron rod to get the flames roaring once again.

Baku dropped into his armchair with a great, shuddering sigh. 'Geez that was close. Too fuckin' close. We nearly lost the little mite.'

They sat in various places around the room in silence for a moment. Zidane muttered something incoherent.

'Guess we're gonna take him in then,' Blank said.

'Guess so,' boss replied. 'Obviously can't leave 'im to his own devices.' He glanced over at the unconscious boy. 'He'll master the art in no time, I'm sure.'

'Not a very reassuring start...' Cinna commented under his breath.

Zidane stirred and said something louder. Something that sounded like 'Terra', but they weren't sure so ignored it.

_XXXX_

It was still light when the little boy finally roused from his slumber. It was his third time waking up since his arrival at this strange place and once again he was hurting all over. His arms, head and wrists hurt, but mostly his neck.

Blinking, he gazed around the room, eyes trying to focus. Back at the hide out, he thought with relief. That's right. Boss had saved him from...from... what?

He reached up and touched his neck, but recoiled in shock to feel the spiky surface of the rope. He panicked. Maybe he was dreaming! Maybe he was going to wake up and find himself back on the horrible wooden platform with those scary people surrounding him, with the ominous trapdoor quivering beneath his feet -

Zidane pinched himself.

Nothing changed.

He sighed in relief. He wasn't dreaming! Boss really had rescued him!

The blonde reached up and gingerly fingered the rope looped round his neck again; it was like an ugly necklace. There were thick knots around the back of it but he could feel the frayed end where the boss had severed it with his sword. The memory of the trap door falling away beneath his feet and the feeling of momentary weightlessness came back with sickening clarity. He noticed that his arms had been bandaged and when he touched his throbbing head he felt the rough material there too.

'You're awake!' a voice suddenly chirped beside him; making him jump out of his skin. The voice noticed and apologized. 'Didn't mean to make you jump!' it giggled.

He looked down and saw Cinna staring up at him with amber eyes. 'How ya feelin'?'

'Alright, I guess,' he croaked. His throat was painfully raw.

'Want some water?'

'Yeah.'

Cinna tottered off then returned with a glass full. Zidane gulped it down greedily.

'You were nearly a goner,' Cinna commented with a boyish grin. 'But boss wouldn't o' let ya die. Me and Blank saved ya ass we did! We disguised ourselves as one of them guards then loosened all the knots in the rope so they would unravel when the trapdoor opened. Clever, eh?'

Zidane touched the rope on his neck again. 'What woulda happened if you hadn't done that?'

Cinna blinked and gave him a stupid look. 'You woulda died of course!' He mimed with his hand, pretending to pull a piece of rope. His head sagged to the side and he stuck his tongue out comically. 'It woulda snapped ya neck.'

A wave of faintness passed over the six-year-old. 'Can I get this rope off my neck?'

'Yup! Justa sec!' He shuffled away again.

_You will bleed and you will die, understand?_

_Yes, but you never told me you could die without having to bleed, _Zidane thought miserably. There was still so much he had to learn. Who had told him that anyway? He couldn't remember the face anymore.

Cinna returned with a pair of scissors and Zidane sliced through the thick rope with some effort. It fell away onto the floor and lay there like a sleeping snake.

Just then boss entered the room, sneezing loudly. He spotted Zidane and guffawed. 'Yer up! Didn't think you would so quick! How ya feelin'?'

'Better,' Zidane chirped and swung his little legs over the side of the couch.

'Got ya a **present**,' the boss said with a grin.

'What's a present?'

'Erm... well, it's a nice **surprise**.'

'What's a surprise?'

Boss sighed and shook his head. 'Here, just take it.'

He tossed something at the boy who caught it between his little hands. It was soft and cuddly; in fact, it was the softest and most cuddliest thing Zidane had ever felt. It was pink, with buttons for eyes and had a large red pom pom thing sticking out of its head on top of a bit of springy wire. It had little purple wings on its back and podgy arms and legs. The six-year-old smiled and gave it a squeeze.

'Aw, boss, that's not fair! How come he gets a toy moogle and I don't!'

'Shut up, boy. You're too old for stuffed toys.'

Cinna pouted and stared with unabated jealously at the toy in Zidane's arms.

'I like it!' Zidane chirped. He'd never had a toy before, not like this, only weapons, but he didn't think they were presents. 'Thanks!'

Boss grunted and waved a hand dismissively, a gesture Zidane would pick up on later in life. 'C'mere, kid. We need to have a chat.'

Zidane slipped off the couch and followed his boss into a separate room, hugging his new - and first - toy close to his chest. His bare torso was covered in white strips of material and his hair stuck up at ridiculous angles around the bandages on his head.

'Where's Blank and Marcus?' he asked.

'Well, that's what I'm gonna talk to you about, so shut yer trap for a few minutes and lemme speak.'

Zidane did as he was told and listened wide eyed as Baku began to explain about theft, thieves, Tantalus, hanging, crime and criminals. That Marcus and Blank were out stealing so they could get some more food. His eyes grew wider as he explained about the Prima Vista, acting, plays and actors and how Zidane was going to become one of them. A member of Tantalus. A thief disguised as an actor. That Baku would take care of him, teach him, give him a home to come back to in return for his loyalty. He explained the rules of Tantalus, that Zidane was free to go whenever he pleased, there was no life-binding obligation, but boss would 'beat the crap outta him' as punishment.

Zidane sat in wide eyed silence even after he'd finished.

'Well, boy, what d'ya say?'

The six year old fidgeted with the toy moogle absently. 'Would it mean I would have to get hung every time? Because I really didn't like that.'

Zidane expected the man to roar with his usual laughter, but the boss looked him dead in the eye and said, 'There is always the risk, but if you do what I say and do it good, you'll never have to see another hangin' rope in yer life, understand?'

'Yes, boss.'

Baku grinned and petted his head gently - for him, anyway. 'Good boy. So you gonna work for me?'

Zidane tried to put things in perspective, but it was so hard. He wasn't sure where he'd come from, what he was, if he had this thing called a parent, if he had brothers and sisters... and everything was big and scary and unfamiliar. There was so much he didn't know. And he really didn't want to get hung again. He did like Blank and Cinna and Marcus and boss, too. What choice did he have?

'Alright. I'll come and work for you. But what will happnen if my parent comes and finds me?'

Boss looked pensively at the ceiling for a moment then shrugged. 'That will be your decision, if and when it happens.'

Zidane grinned and stuck his thumb in his mouth, eyes wide and innocent. Baku patted him again. 'Alright, you're trainin' starts tomorrow, got it?'

'Yes, boss!'

_XXXX_

Blank sighed angrily, kicking up the fresh snow that had fallen overnight, causing a curtain of white to drift in the icy air.

Why him? Why did he have to deal with this? Marcus could do it! He had more... more... ex peeri ens... He thought that was the word he'd heard boss say, anyway. It was stupid! He was going to get in the way, he just knew it...

He glanced over his shoulder at the younger boy trundling behind him, clutching his little moogle toy to his chest, staring excitedly around at the his surroundings.

Blank sighed again and frowned. The kid was weird. He'd never seen anyone with a tail before and the fact he didn't remember anything before they found him made the red head think of aliens. Marcus had told him about them once, that they were scary, green men from **outer space**. Well...Zidane wasn't green...and he wasn't very scary. But he _could_ be from **outer space **for all he knew! Not that Blank knew what outer space was...

_Crunch-crunch-crunch_.

Blank liked the snow. It was fun. It meant that him and Cinna got to sit in Mr. McKempsy's old apple barrels and slide down the big hill just outside of the Theatre District. That was the best! Except last time they broke one and boss had to pay Mr. McKempsy money for it and they got beaten up by boss real bad...

'Blank, what's that?'

The nine-year-old sighed angrily. This was the eleventh 'what's that' question the kid had asked and he was getting sick of it. 'What?'

'That! That! That..._ thing_!'

Blank looked where he was pointing. 'A snow man.'

'Snow man...Wow. I saw some kids buildin' 'em yesterday, Blank, and they were puttin' twigs in the sides for arms and stones for the smile and the eyes and the nose and then one of 'em put it's hat on it's head, it looked real funny, like it was a proper person, except a real bumpy person, like a fat person, Blank, wouldn't it be funny if it had a scarf as well like mine we could make an army of snow mans and -'

'Shut up, would you?' Blank hissed. 'Work has to be done... done in quiet, alright?' That was bald face lie, but that kid really wouldn't shut up when he got going.

'Oh sorry,' the blonde whispered behind him and fell quiet.

They finally arrived at the street market, a different one to the one Zidane had gone to the day before. Blank explained that this particular market was only set up once a month in this district because it was for **rich** people.

'What's rich?' Zidane whispered, still thinking he had to keep quiet. He was gripping the arm of Blank's brown trench coat and staring fearfully into the crowd.

'It's when someone has lots of money. They're the people we target.'

'The people we steal from?'

'Ssh, not so loud, and yes. We also steal from this market 'cause the stall owners are rich too.'

'Okay.'

Blank shrugged his little hand of irritably. 'Boss said you just have to watch me today, so stick nearby but don't go right up to me. Watch what I do and keep quiet, got it?'

'Yep!' Zidane popped his thumb in his mouth and trundled after the older boy into the crowd, clutching the arm if his cuddly toy with his free hand. He studied the people around him with interest while keeping one eye on Blank. They certainly did look different to all the people he'd seen so far. The women wore massive dresses of bright colors, all frills and ruffles. The fabric looked silky and expensive. They also wore large, wide brimmed hats with long feathers and ribbons decorating the top, shielding their eyes from the snow drifts, and Zidane realized with disgust that there were dead animals, such as foxes, draped across their necks like scarves. The men wore tight leggings, padded jackets heavily embroided with golden thread, their long cloaks trailing after them like scolded dogs. The children were quiet and stern, not loud and playful like the ones on the streets.

He was knocked out of his daydream by Blank who waving frantically to get his attention. When Zidane looked at him he scowled furiously and made an odd gesture with his fingers that Zidane didn't understand. Either way, he could tell the older boy was angry because he hadn't been paying attention. Blank signaled to his eyes and then to himself. _Watch me._

The red head moved toward a fat woman whose silky purse was attached to a heavy gold chain. She had naively allowed the purse to be pushed behind her and now it was resting against the top of her bottom. Blank moved swiftly and silently. One hand unclipped the top of the purse, the other reached in and scooped out the contents and then he was moving on without so much as a glance backward. It was over in a matter of seconds, the woman and the crowd none the wiser and Tantalus 300 Gil richer.

Zidane tottered after him, trying to avoid looking at the pickpocket victim. He moved to Blank's side and stared up at his face. 'That was amazing, Blank! You were amazing!' he whispered. 'Can I see it? Can I see the Gil?'

'We aint finished yet, stupid! And stop talkin' about it! We stand out enough as it is in this crowd. Now, watch me.'

He moved away again, hands in pockets, staring with a glazed expression at the sky. _Don't mind me_, his expression said, _I'm just passing through. Go about your business._

Zidane almost missed it. Blank strolled past a stall selling hot buns. His hand flashed out and back. Was that it? What had happened? The blonde glanced in between the heads and saw that the stall owner hadn't even noticed. He couldn't help but feel a tingle of excitement, of adrenalin.

He ran to catch up with the red head . Blank looked down at him and winked. 'Breakfast is served,' he said and passed Zidane a steaming bun.

The boy giggled and munched on it happily, pretending to feed some to his moogle every now and again.

The two boys weaved their way through the crowds for another hour, Blank picking up items from stalls and nobles alike as Zidane watched with intense amazement, awe and growing excitement. Blank was really good, it was no wonder the fruit stall owner had caught him - he had been so obvious!

A sudden cry broke the boy's thoughts. 'Thief! Thief!'

Zidane froze on the spot. A whimper escaped his lips and he reached up to his throat in panic, terrified that he'd find the rope there, waiting, constricting, biting. And then Blank grabbed him by the hand and was pulling him along, cursing under his breath. Zidane gripped Blank's warm hand and the moogle as tight as he could, tears welling up in eyes from the sheer fear of being caught and hung again.

The red head turned into an alley and opened the lid of a skip, he gave Zidane a boost inside before jumping in himself, then slammed the rusty lid shut, encasing them both in a dreadful darkness.

Outside they heard the heavy footfalls and hagged breath of running men. One let out a muffled cry of surprise and a faint 'Where'd they go?' But they didn't stop and continued to run down the alley.

Silence. Zidane could hear his own heart thumping wildly his his chest and imagined he could hear Blank's too.

Finally, the older boy flung the lid open. 'That was close!'

'What happened?' Zidane asked while clambering out of the rubbish filled skip. He and his moogle smelt really bad now.

Blank grunted. 'I tried to swipe a necklace but I dropped it and the woman next to me noticed.' He sighed. 'I was careless. Don't tell boss, ok?'

'I wont. But you owe me one!'

'Cheeky bastard!' the red head growled, but didn't object.

Zidane grinned.

_Aw I love the thievery and the... brotherly-ness -grin- Oh, just so you know this isn't going to turn into a Blank/Zidane fic, as much as I like them -smile- If you review I'll give you a cookie!_


	7. Treno

_::Gives everyone cookie because she's feeling generous::_

_You've probably noticed that Tantalus is missing a member. 'Nuff said. ::grin::_

**Chapter 7: Treno  
**_'You don't need a reason to help people.'  
_- Zidane

Spring had finally come. The fresh breeze had lost its icy edge and now brought with it the smell of new life and the promise of warmth. Ice began to thaw and snow started to melt and icicles were reduced to watery stumps, dripping residue onto the cobblestones below. Small, green buds dotted the ends of tree branches like decorations. Birds were beginning to return from their winter migration and they chattered excitedly, filling the air with their heartfelt songs.

'Z-Zidane! Get down from there, you'll fall!'

'Nah, I'll be alright!'

'BLANK! I told you to look after him!'

'I am! He's not doin' what I say and-'

'GET HIM DOWN FROM THERE NOW!'

Blank sighed and trudged his way along the deck of the Prima Vista, intent on dragging the hyperactive little boy down from mast he had climbed up. _This is the worst day ever._

Zidane, on the other hand, was beside himself in excitement. _This is the best day ever!_

The memory of falling from a ship into the sea was long forgotten. To him, this was his first time on an airship. The experience was exhilarating to say the least. He'd driven the other members of Tantalus half wild with fury when he'd first boarded the airship...

'Is this it?!' he had cried, his voice echoing round the giant port in Lindblum's famous docking yard. The Prima Vista was one of the largest ships in history, and perhaps one of the most extravagant, or so Baku liked to boast. 'It's gigantic! How does it stay in the air? Isn't it heavy? Why doesn't it fall? Does it have feathers? Blank, does it have feathers?'

'Why does he always ask me? Ask Cinna for once.'

The blonde rounded on the podgy eleven-year-old. 'Does it have feathers Cinna? Is it alive like a bird? What's that big towery thingy there? Does that help it fly? What about that weird woman-fish thingy at the front? And why does -'

'Woah, kid, slow down,' Cinna urged desperately. 'It flies using **Mist**.'

'What's Mist?'

Cinna gaped at him. 'You're sayin' you didn't have Mist where you were from, either?'

'Booosss, Zidane's lying againnn!' Blank called across the docking yard, but Zidane paid him no mind.

'Guess not,' he said.

'Oh well… You'll see. Anyway the **engine** runs on Mist.'

'What's an engine?'

'I'll show you when we **board**.'

'Yay! Board! I want a board now!' the blonde squeaked excitedly, though he had no idea what 'board' meant. 'Boss, boss, can we board now? Can we?'

Baku, who was finalizing the departing details with one of the docking staff, waved a hand absently. 'Knock yerself out, kid.'

'Why would I wanna do that?'

'It means yes!' Blank sighed irritably and began pushing the younger boy up the boarding plank. He didn't need to push for long though as Zidane practically flew up the wooden board, chattering and squealing in excitement.

The Tantalus crew was hoping his enthusiasm would simmer when they got flying, but their hopes were quickly diminished. Zidane dashed back and forth along the deck, leaning precariously over the edge, still gabbering on relentlessly, hammering them with endless questions. Boss had tried to catch him but the little boy was too fast, darting from his grasp, clambering up ladders and swinging on ropes like a monkey.

'No more sugar for you,' Marcus had muttered under his breath.

Finally, Baku had lost his temper and ascended to the control room with Cinna. 'Keep an eye on 'im, would ya, Blank?'

The red head sighed. Currently, Zidane was halfway up a mast, little arms, tail and legs wrapped around the circumference, making more noise than all the seagulls put together.

'Get down!' Blank called up at him.

'Aw not yet!'

'No, boss said you hafta get down now! Or he'll beat ya!'

'But I wanna catch a cloud and I can't do it from down there!'

The older boy sighed. 'You can't catch clouds! They're... made of water and... stuff...' Truthfully, he wasn't really sure.

Zidane stared down at Blank in disappointment before taking one last, wistful glance at a distant fluffy cloud then sliding down the mast and dropping onto the deck. Blank grabbed the smaller figure firmly by the shoulders before he could shoot off again .

'D'ya wanna see inside?'

The blonde's eyes lit up. 'There's an inside?'

''Course there is, stupid. Where do you think we sleep?'

'We're sleeping on here too?!' He looked like he was going to burst.

'Yup. It's a good three days trip to reach Treno.'

'And you gotta practice your lines, right Blank?'

'Yup.'

'Can I practice them with you?'

'You can't read, stupid.'

Zidane suddenly grabbed the older boys hand before he could protest and stuck the thumb on his free hand in his mouth. Blank sighed and led him into the Prima Vista. He passed Marcus on the way ho sniggered behind his hand.

'Alright there, mommy?'

'Shut yer gob, Marcus or I'll leave him with you!'

Marcus gulped and hurried past.

They weaved their way through the wooden halls of the airship which rocked gently as they soared through the air. They could hear the engine droning and spluttering constantly. Blank led him down a flight of stairs, Zidane tottering behind the older boy, thumb still in his mouth, other hand still clamped onto Blank's. The red head threw open a door at the bottom.

'This is where we sleep. Except boss, he sleeps in a separate room downstairs by himself.'

The room was quite large. It had two single beds laid on one side of the room at crooked angles, and a bunk bed pushed up against the opposite wall. There was a chest of drawers too; it's contents spilling out it's gaping draws, and several bedside tables with candles on them. Scripts were scattered forlornly across the floor like dead seagulls.

'Where do you sleep Blank?' Zidane asked.

'On the bottom bunk but - hey!'

The blonde was scrambling up the wooden ladder that led to the top bunk. 'I'll sleep here then!' he announced and hid playfully under the covers.

'Y-you can't sleep above me!'

'Why not?' his muffled voice objected.

'B-because...because... Cinna sleeps there!'

'No I don't. I sleep over there.'

Blank whirled around and glared at the older boy furiously. 'Shut - up,' he hissed.

'You can sleep there, Zidane,' Cinna called. 'Then you can tell Blank bed time stories all night.' He grinned savagely. _'Aaaaaaaallllllll night_, Blank.'

'Yay!'

Blank groaned. 'I hate you.'

_XXXX_

After a long (sleepless) three days, Treno finally came into view. It was night when they arrived, which made it exceedingly difficult to dock. It required the utmost concentration, hence why Zidane had been locked in a cupboard for the past half an hour.

Baku steered the Prima Vista as accurately as the darkness would allow, snaking the front of the enormous ship into the docking base, located on the outskirts of Treno. Cinna was madly working the engine, trying to prevent it from over heating as it nosed its way forward, inch by inch. Blank and Marcus stood on opposite sides of the ship, following instructions that were called up to them by the docking staff who were jogging alongside the theatre ship on wooden runways.

Finally, the iron rigging was secured to thick rings running along the length of the dock. Prima Vista had officially landed.

'Gwahahaha! Piece of friggin' cake,' the boss congratulated himself, slapping his large stomach. 'Hm... Better go get that damn kid...'

He descended the spiral staircase and entered a room to his left; fishing around in is pocket for a key.

'Blank is that you? I'm gonna kick your friggin' ass when I get outta here, I swear! You better sleep with one eye open 'cause I'm gonna shave all your hair off - and your eyebrows too!' a muffled voice threatened from inside a closet.

Baku unlocked the door and opened it, then guffawed with laughter at the sight. The six year old was squashed up inside the storage facility, glaring up at him with bleary eyes, bottom lip sticking out ridiculously far. He leapt out, tail thrashing angrily.

'Where is he? Where is that bastard?'

The boss roared with laughter again and patted the child's head affectionately. 'It was my idea to shut you away while we docked. It's a tricky process and we couldn't have you runnin' round distractin' us, ya get me?'

Zidane stamped his foot and scowled, muttering, 'Well... he could've put me in a bigger cupboard.'

'You can get yer own back later. We're going to find the other members of Tantalus now.'

Zidane popped his thumb in his mouth and grabbed his toy moogle from his bed. 'Other members? I thought it was only us?'

Baku led the way to where Marcus was lowering the gangway to the waiting docking staff. 'Nope. There's the band and the triplets.'

'Band? Why do we need a band, boss?'

'To play music while we're performing! Now quit askin' questions and stick by me, ya hear?'

'Okay!'

The group left Prima Vista via the gangway and stepped foot on the wooden boards below. Baku said a few words to the docking staff then they set off into the heart of the city.

Zidane stared around in awe. The buildings weren't as big as in Lindblum, but they had an aristocratic air that differed immensely. Most were constructed from gray stone, gargoyles leering down from their peeks as they walked beneath them. Zidane thought their ugly faces were scary and hid behind Blank, who grunted and pushed him away. The people here were dressed like nobles as well, their hats plumed with feathers. They stared down their noses and made snooty remarks behind fans as they spotted the dirty looking gang swaggering through the streets. Zidane stopped to stare into the belly of a cafe that was full of nobles, elegantly conversing over pots of steaming tea served in fancy china. Some sat outside on chairs lined with silken cushions beneath brightly colored umbrellas. A group of women sitting round one of these tables stopped mid conversation when they noticed the little boy with the dirty toy moogle staring at them.

'It's rude to stare,' one commented snootily, staring down her little nose at him.

'Oh, don't talk to the filthy rat, Marcia,' another squeaked. 'He's one of those awful street urchins. He would probably steal your purse if you took your eyes of him.'

Well, Zidane couldn't argue with _that_.

Another woman grasped her purse and dramatically fluttered her fan. 'Gracious! Why the little devil! Get out of here! Shoo! Did your parents not teach you manners?'

Zidane was just about to tell the lady that he actually didn't have parents when Blank caught him by the hand and began dragging him away, calling over his shoulder, 'Blow me, wench!'

'What was their problem?' Zidane asked after they were out of earshot.

Blank shrugged. 'Meh. They think their better than us.'

Baku greeted Zidane with a cuff round the ear. 'Don't the term 'stay close to me' mean anything to ya, boy?'

'Sorry!'

'Should bloody well think so. Do you wanna get hung? No, thought not. So do what I friggin' say, got it?'

They walked on and Zidane noticed the scenery morph around them. The fancy buildings became more derelict. The elegant cafes became fewer in number and eventually began downgrading into run down pubs. Nobles were replaced with shifty eyed men, skinny women and dirt-smeared children. It smelt bad too. Like toilets, Zidane thought, wrinkling his nose.

A group of men shambled past, slurring and bleary eyed. One lost his balance and knocked into Zidane, who ran with a terrified squeak to Blank and clutched his hand. Boss roared with laughter and the nine-year-olds face turned the color of his hair.

Soon, they were in the slums of Treno. The houses had been replaced with badly kept wooden shacks and makeshift homes constructed of correlated iron, rusty reds and grays, ascending to different levels. Crudely constructed stalls were scattered here and there selling cheap goods.

'Are we gonna steal from them?' Zidane whispered to Blank.

'No. We never steal from these people,' he replied.

'Why?'

''Cause they're just like us.'

Eventually they reached a wooden house that was in slightly better condition than the others. A crudely made sign hung over the doorway, which read 'Pub'. Zidane finally released Blank's hand and was just about to follow the others in when a voice caught his attention.

'You wanna buy her? Bargain price, she'll be worth the gil I can assure you that.'

He turned and saw a shady looking man whose face was hidden by the hood of his cloak holding a little girl. Another man stood in front of him, looking the girl up and down speculatively.

'She's a bit on the thin side,' he said doubtfully.

'Bullocks! She's got plenty of fat on her!' the man denied and grabbed the girls wrist, tugging it violently toward the man. 'Here, feel.'

The man reached forward and pinched her. 'Mmm... I don't know. 300 gil is a bit steep.'

'Alright we'll make it 275, how about that?'

'Well...'

The little girl began to cry. Her arm bore angry red marks where the man had grabbed her. The cloaked being hit her head to shut her up and continued bargaining with his customer. The girl bit down on her lip to stop herself from crying out loud.

Zidane may have only been six, but even then he boasted a heart of gold. He had no idea what sick trade was taking place, all he knew was the little girl was upset and that man was mistreating her. Plus, children weren't objects to be sold!

Making sure that Tantalus weren't nearby; he crept forward, far enough so the girl could see him but not so close that the men would notice him. He waved his moogle in the air to get the girls attention.

'Look I can't go under 250, you hear?' the man was arguing.

The little girl looked up and spotted him, tears streaming down her pale cheeks.

Zidane beckoned wildly.

She shook her head, glancing fearfully up at her captive.

He tried again but she refused.

'Alright, how about 245? I wont pay anymore for that skinny runt. You're asking too much in the first place.'

Zidane squinted, trying to think up a plan.

'Okay, okay. 245 gil it is then. She's all yours.'

_Oh no! No time for a plan I guess. _

Without thinking at all Zidane launched himself between the two men and grabbed the girl by the hand. She gave a cry of surprise but didn't protest when he began tugging her away into the darkness.

The cloaked man stared lamely after them before gathering his wits and giving chase. The man in front of him cried, 'Thief! Thief!'

_XXXX_

'Gwahahaha! How've you been?'

'We've been good, boss!' the triplets chimed in unison.

Tantalus had filed into the pub and was crowding round a table in the corner, greeting their fellow gang mates. They exchanged perfunctionary greetings for a few minutes before the boss interrupted them.

'Oh, before I forget, we've gotta new member!'

Genero, Benero and Zenero stared expectantly round the group.

Silence.

'Zidane? You gonna introduce yerself?'

Nothing.

Boss began to tremble with rage. 'Where... is he...? ZIDANE YOU BETTER GET YOUR ASS HERE RIGHT NOW!'

The only reply was an ominous set of cries from outside. 'Thief! Thief!'

Blank put his head in his hands. 'Not again...'

_Hehe. I love Blank! Not keen on this chapter though. I can always picture Zid as a hyperactive child! Um... I'm going on holiday (vacation, for all you Americans) for a while so I wont be able to update for quite some time. But please leave a review! You've probably guessed who the little girl is hehe..._


	8. Ruby

_Back from my holiday yay! In my opinion, Venice is overrated lol. And the only reason I translated holiday to vacation was because my friend once knew an American who thought all English people spoke French ¬¬;; Surely the name 'English' kind of gives it away? Lol. Anyway, this chapter is short, so I apologise, but I hope you enjoy it anyway! Next update will be quicker becuase this chap is so short..._

**Chapter 8: Ruby**

Zidane ran like he had never run before. He ran through narrow alleyways, the sky a dark slither above him. He ran through opulent mansions and scummy shanty houses, the residents shouting angrily after him as he knocked things over in a desperate attempt to escape. He ran beside the canal and over bridges. He ran through corridors lined with rich carpet. He ran past menacing statues that stared unblinkingly into the distance, the girl's hand securely clasped within his own, the moogle in the other.

Yet no matter how hard he ran, the man pursuing them gave no sign of giving up.

To make matters worse the little boy was tiring. Zidane had a high stamina, but he was still small and was dragging behind him a girl who clearly did not have the same level of tolerance to running.

An imposing building constructed of peach and white brick merged out of the darkness. It's arched doorway stood slightly ajar. Without a second thought Zidane pulled the girl inside and slammed the door shut. He heard her gasp slightly and turned round.

The room was packed full of nobles, all heads turned toward them. Some were sitting on elegant chairs while others sat upon balconies rimming the room, all facing a single man standing on a raised podium. The crowd rippled with whispers. The man on the podium coughed awkwardly.

'Well, shall we continue? I have a silver chocobo feather here worth 500,000gil. Any takers at 500,000?'

People began to raise their hands and the man called out a series of numbers. Zidane had no idea what was going on but he was relieved that the attention had been diverted away from them. Upon hearing a commotion outside, he opened the door a crack and peeped out unnoticed.

Treno guards were confronting the man who had been chasing them.

'You can't go in there, sir,' one was saying.

'You idiots! Those damn kids just went in there so why can't I?'

'Kids? I didn't see any kids. Are you sure?'

'Yes I'm bloody sure go and look for yourself!'

_Uh-oh._

Zidane closed the door and grabbed the girl's hand again. 'We've gotta find a way out,' he hissed and began leading her through the crowd of seated nobles, who stared at them with unmasked distaste.

'Sold! To the lady at the back for 6,000,000gil!' the man at the front bellowed in triumph, banging a hammer against a tall wooden platform. What on Gaia are they doing?

Yet despite his curiosity Zidane couldn't deny the rising panic that was threatening to consume him. There seemed to be another way out of the building but a guard had just entered through it. He was scanning the room looking for... looking for...

_Us!_

Zidane groaned audibly, earning him disapproving looks from nearby nobles.

_No choice then..._

He turned to the girl. 'We're gonna hafta run again. You ready?'

She nodded gingerly and squeezed his hand, looking down at him with frightened eyes.

He crept to the door and peered out again. The man was still arguing with the guards. After a deep, steadying breath Zidane mustered his courage and bolted out the door, sprinting past them in a frantic blur.

'There they are!' he heard the man cry.

_We're gonna hafta hide!_

They rounded a corner and entered an alley bathed in heavy shadows. Zidane tugged the girl into a doorway and stood on tiptoes so he could press his little hand over her mouth. They only had to wait a few seconds before the sound of heavy footfalls greeted them. The blonde's heart was beating so hard he was afraid his pursers would hear it.

Finally they passed and Zidane exhaled loudly. He hadn't even realized he'd been holding his breath. He took his hand away from the girls trembling lips, fingers wet from her tears.

'We have to get out of here. I can take you back to -'

'Look out!' she squealed suddenly and Zidane was abruptly torn from the shadows by a large pair of powerful hands. Panic erupted and his vision turned red. He struggled for all his worth and bit down hard on the hand encircling his waist.

'Yeoooww!' a voice bellowed and promptly dropped the six year old. 'Friggin' hell that hurt Zidane!'

The boy squinted into the shadows as the person stepped forward into a slice of moonlight.

'Boss!' Zidane cried, voice cracking with relief.

'You bit me, you little runt!' he roared and knocked Zidane round the head. 'I told ya to stick by me and what do you go and do? Run off stealin' shit again! Do I have to get a leash for y-'

'Boss, you don't understand! I weren't stealing nothing! There was this man and he was... he was selling this girl. And the girl she was real upset so I went and took her.'

Baku rubbed his hand absently. 'Gwahahaha! That's still stealing, kid. Where's this girl then?'

Zidane turned to the doorway drenched in shadow. 'You can come out. It's ok. This is my boss, he'll help you.'

The shadows stirred and the girl stepped into the moonlight. Zidane got a good look at her for the first time. She was probably about Blank's age, maybe a bit older. Her silver hair cascaded past her slight shoulders and her eyes were the color of stomy seas. She stared sheepishly up at the large man.

''Ello,' boss said gently. 'What's yer name then?'

'Ruby.'

'That's a pretty name,' Zidane remarked, grinning up at the older girl. 'Should we take her back with us, boss?'

Baku laughed but his expression was serious. 'Alright calm down, **little charmer**. Ruby, who was the man that chased you? Did he kidnap you?'

'Naw, he's ma uncle.'

Zidane was clearly shocked but Baku seemed unfazed by the statement. 'I see. He was... trying to sell you?'

'Yessir. I don't mind much, though. I think I'd rather be anywhere but with him.'

'Anywhere?'

She nodded sadly. Her eyes portrayed deep emotional scars that she would never speak of to anyone, not then and not in years to come. Looking at the torn little girl in the moonlight, Zidane's heart hurt for her. He reached out and took her hand, smiling sweetly.

'Hmm... Come on then. Let's go meet this uncle of yours,' boss said finally.

Ruby hung back, melting into the shadows again, but Zidane pulled her out, offering another heart melting smile. 'It's ok!' he chirped. 'I wont let anyone hurt you!'

Boss guffawed loudly and muttered something which involved the words '**little charmer' **again. The two children followed him back onto the streets of Treno.

_XXXX_

The similarity between the two relatives wasn't striking, but it was there nonetheless. He was a man in his late forties whose complexion was hagged and hair was a dusty brown. His eyes were the same shape and color as Ruby's but there was no innocence within them, only hate, anger and fear. He was tied to a chair in the room Baku had rented in the pub, hands bound behind his back with Marcus' bandana.

'Who are you people?' he was whining, struggling against his binds. 'Whut d'ya want with me?'

Zidane thought the way he talked was funny. When he whispered this to Blank, the red head said it was his **accent**. He was from the **south**.

'That your niece?' Baku barked, cocking a finger over in Ruby's direction.

'Yaw, what's it to ya? You gonna untie me, partner?'

'Nope. You were tryin' to sell her to some man, isn't that right? A stranger off the streets of Treno?'

The man suddenly found the floor conveniently interesting. 'Aint none of ya beeswax.'

'Well, I'm friggin' making it my beeswax. Why'd you do it?'

He shrugged wearing a strained expression, shaggy hair falling into his face. 'Life is tough. I needed the money and she was an invaluable asset. By the looks of it you're the sorta fella that would do anythin' for a bit o' Gil, am I right partner?'

Baku shook his head. 'Wrong. I take orphans in and take care of 'em. I don't sell 'em for money. That's just...just... disgusting. Get my drift? Did you even care what was gonna happen to her? What that man might of done to her?'

The captive snorted, glaring at the floor. 'If you care so much then you take her.'

'I was intending to.'

He blinked. 'Huh? Run that one by me again?'

'You heard me. I'm taking her.'

'No, you can _buy_ her off me.'

The boss sighed and there was a moment of tense silence. The big man leaned down so he could look into Ruby's uncle's eyes. Zidane thought it was the first time he'd ever seen the boss truly angry.

He said, 'Go - screw - yourself, _partner_.'

Ruby's uncle blinked in shock, his pursed lips a bloodless line across his face.

Baku straightened himself. 'Get this idiot outta my face. And you -' he pointed at Zidane. '- you are gonna stay RIGHT HERE. Got it? Next time you aint gonna get away with sneakin' off so lightly.'

Zidane nodded violently and stuffed his thumb in his mouth. Boss could be mighty scary when he wanted to be.

The man was gagged and carried out of the room by the triplets. It was last time they ever laid eyes on the man and Ruby never mentioned him again.

_Quick Plug: Please keep an eye open for 'Paper Roses', my new FF9 fic based on Garnet's past. It wont be dull, I promise! Should be posted any day now. Anyway, plug over, please leave a review, they make my day::wink::_


	9. Map

_Slight look into the first acting thing Zid did, as well as his Genome side. Could be considered 'filler' - but to be honest this fic doesn't have a firm plot, it's merely a suggestion of what Zid's life might have been like._

_Xanthera: You wrote: "And after all, she makes an accusation about them being theives at one point, so she doesn't even know Tantlus is anything more than an acting troupe" ... Honestly, I don't think she's THAT dense. Going by the game I think she only acts, she doesn't steal. They'll be more about Ruby in future chapters. Thanks for the review!_

**C****hapter 9: Map  
**_'Everyone has talent. What is rare is the courage to follow the talent to the dark place where it leads'.  
_- Erica Jong

Three years after Zidane had discovered Ruby being sold on the streets of Treno, the boss approached him in the hideout and threw a wad of paper at him.

'Alright, Marcia, learn it.'

Zidane picked up the booklet. 'Ay?'

'Ya heard me. You're Marcia and I want you to learn ya lines.'

The nine-year-old blinked down at the script. 'You mean I get to be in a play?'

Baku sneezed loudly and snorted. 'I think yer old enough now to play a part. Plus you're gettin' lazy s-'

'Lazy!? I brought back 500 Gil last week and Blank only brought back 150 so I thi-'

'Oi! Don't get me involved!' a voice protested from the kitchen.

Zidane grunted and turned his attention back to the script. 'Why've I gotta play the girl anyway? It offends my masculinity.'

The boss roared with laughter, slapping his large thigh. 'You hear that Blank? Masculinity my bleedin' ass!'

'Zidane, you're the most feminine outta all of us,' Blank called from the doorway of the kitchen, a large grin splitting his face.

'Am not! Just 'cause all the ladies like me better that you!'

'Yeah right...'

'They do!'

'Both of yer shut up,' Baku bellowed. 'Zidane, you're playin' the girl part 'cause you're little and unlike the other guys, your voice aint broken yet, dig what I'm saying?'

'No...'

The boss huffed. 'Do I gotta remind you what happens to members who don't obey their boss?'

Zidane backed away a few steps, wide eyed. 'N-no sir!' He still bore the remnants of boss' last 'reminder'. 'Why can't Ruby play it anyway?'

'She's playing the _lead_ female role. You're playin' her sister.'

'Aw shit. My first role and I'm playin' a girl. Do I gotta wear a dress?'

'Garter's an' all,' Blank answered, emerging from the kitchen once again. 'And don't worry, we're makin' it _real_ frilly for you.'

Zidane gulped. 'He's joking right? Boss, he's joking, aint he?'

Boss just walked away laughing loudly.

The tailed boy leapt up onto his bed and began skimming through the script with interest. He had been watching the troupe perform on the streets and on Prima Vista's stage for a good few years but he had never been offered a part in any of the plays. He helped the others learn their lines, helped with making props, setting up, advertising and the thievery while the shows took place, but never the acting side. His stomach fluttered with excited nervousness.

'Hey Blank!' he shouted across the hideout. 'What part are you playing?'

The red head emerged from the kitchen again. It was his turn to cook dinner that night. 'I'm playing Philip.'

Zidane flicked to the front where the parts were listed and ogled. 'Wow, Blank that's the second main part! You've gotta lot of lines to learn!'

'Yeah I know. Sucks don't it?'

The blonde nodded and glanced up at his Tantalus brother. Blank was twelve now and had had his growth spurt. He loomed over Zidane and knew it, using his advantage in height to pick fun at his shorter brother. He knew how much Zidane hated it, which made it all the more fun.

Just then the front doors of the hideout banged open and a thirteen-year-old Ruby swaggered in. She had a silk scarf tied on her head, something she always did when it was windy outside to protect her hair

_(darlin' dya know how long it takes me to get it lookin' this good in the mornin')_

from getting messed up. Zidane thought it made her look older and sophisticated.

'How y'all doin'?' she greeted upon noticing Blank and Zidane staring at her. 'It's mighty windy out there. My skirt almost blew up twice. Had t' hold it down the whole way back.'

'And we needed to know that...why?'

'Now ya just hush up, Blank,' Ruby frowned, pulling off her heels. 'A boy like yerself could never understand the pain of wearin' a skirt on a blustery day.'

'Zidane might do soon,' the red head said with a sly grin in the blonde's direction.

The blonde in question felt his cheeks beginning to burn in spite of himself.

'Come again, partner?'

'Zidane got the role of Marcia in the play.'

Ruby giggled, blue eyes sparkling.

'Don't laugh!' Zidane whined. 'It's not funny! Blank you've had to play girls before, too!'

'Yeah but I'm a man now so-'

'Man?' Ruby scoffed, peeling with laughter. 'You? Don't make me laugh lil' boy!'

Blank scowled. Him and Ruby had an odd relationship. Zidane couldn't quite put his finger on it. One minute they were laughing and being all friendly with each other and then the next minute they were in a huff over something. He shrugged inwardly. The blonde liked girls, sure, but Ruby was definitely the most fickle girl he'd ever met.

The boss emerged from the stairs. 'That you Ruby?'

'Sure is, boss.'

'C'mere then and hand over what cha got. Blank quit flirtin' and get back to cookin' us a meal. Zidane, you learnin' those lines, boy?'

'Yep!'

'Good. Well don't just stand around gawping, get to work!'

They did the Tantalus salute and did just that.

After a moment of reading, Zidane grabbed the script and jumped down from his bunk. He wandered across the room and leaned against the doorframe of the kitchen.

'What?' Blank asked, cocking an eyebrow in his direction. He was boiling what looked like broccoli in a saucepan.

'Ew!' Zidane exclaimed, wrinkling his nose. 'Why do we have to eat that crap?'

''Cause it's good for you. And boss told me to cook it.'

Zidane sighed. Brocilli, spinach and sprouts were his greatest foes. He approached the red head with his script. 'Blank, what does that word say?'

The 12-year-old turned a hazel eye in his direction, glancing at where Zidane's finger was pointing on the page. 'Ecstasy,' he read.

'Oh. What does it mean?'

'When something feels really really good.'

'Oh. Thanks.'

'Learn to read, idiot.'

'I read better

_(abnormally better)_

than most people my age!' he protested, hitting Blank with the booklet before storming from the kitchen. 'And I aint touchin' that broccoli,' he shouted over his shoulder as an after thought.

'It's not me you'll be answering to if you don't!'

Zidane flopped back onto his bed again and pretended to read the script. He couldn't concentrate. Marcus, Cinna and the triplets were on pick pocketing duty today, which meant that the nine-year-old had been shut inside all morning. He would've gone outside but now boss had given him the script he was going to have to read it.

The problem was that some of the words were hard to read, and he didn't want to admit to Blank that he was having trouble -

'Need a hand, cowboy?'

He looked up and saw Ruby looking up at him.

He nodded and she climbed up the ladder and sat herself next to him. 'The script is pretty hard, huh?'

Zidane nodded again, sticking his thumb in his mouth. A habit he'd yet to grow out of.

'I'll help ya. Don't you worry. Then we can learn our lines together, most of your scenes are with me anyway.' She grinned at him. 'How about it sis'?'

The nine-year-old blew a raspberry around his thumb and she laughed at his annoyed expression.

_XXXX_

Later that evening, when the whole of the Tantalus troupe, minus the band, were crowded round the table for dinner, Baku gave a grunt of annoyance and shouted, 'Alright, which one of you bastard's got my map?'

The group looked at him in surprise, shaking their heads.

'Well one of you lot has gotta have it,' the boss roared around a mouthful of broccoli. ''Cause I aint bloody got it!'

Zidane knew full well how forgetful the boss was; things like this occurred regularly. Boss would lose something, blame them, and then find a few days later find it under his bed or in his closet where he had put it away for safe keeping. Then he would claim that one of 'you friggin' bastards' had hid it there to annoy him, which was rubbish, of course.

It looked like history was repeating itself.

'Boss, have ya looked under your bed?' Ruby suggested with a sigh. 'Or on top of your closet? Maybe it slipped down the side of yer bedside cabinet?'

Baku's thick brow furrowed and he scratched his purple beard, tall ears twitching in thought. 'I checked all of dem places. One of you mongrels has taken it!'

Zidane sighed and pushed his broccoli round his plate, wondering if he could con it off onto Cinna's plate when he wasn't looking.

'How 'bout in yer chest? Ya know the one un'er yer bed?' the silver haired girl tried again. She was the only one who could really attempt to question boss as he never laid a finger

_(I aint beatin' no girl never have never will)_

on her. Zidane thought this was mighty unfair and wondered if boss would lay off the beatings when the blonde took up the role as Marcia.

'I don't give two craps,' boss was saying. 'I want that bloody map!'

'Why don't you draw one?' Marcus suggested. 'You probably know it pretty well by now, right?'

'Don't be stupid! I need to know the exact location of the biggest mountains so I can avoid them when we're flyin' the Theatre Ship. Can't get around without a map 'cause of the Mist.'

And then, as abruptly as a stroke of lightening licking the ground, a door was opened in Zidane's mind. 'I'll draw it!' he chirped and ran to get some paper and pens from his toy box.

Baku snorted. 'Come back and sit down, boy!'

'This is just an excuse not to eat his broccoli!' Blank protested, glaring down at the untouched vegetables on his own plate.

'Naw it aint!' Zidane argued, returning to the table. He pushed his plate away to give him room to lay down the crumpled sheet of paper. It was so striking clear in his head - so bitingly obvious it was shocking. He could visualize everything. All the coordinates, all the recorded depths of Gaia's oceans, the height of its mountains down to the millimeter. The exact locations and sizes of every populated place on its surface, he could even give a rough estimate of the population in each city and village.

So he began to draw. The newfound information flooded his senses. He drew each indent of the continent, each tiny, uninhabited island, every river, every lake, every forest, all proportioned perfectly and placed in their exact coordinates. And he didn't stop with the Mist Continent. He began sketching the Forgotten Continent, Lost Continent and Outer Continent. He wrote down in his clumsy, nine-year-old handwriting the names of the seas, the names of places even Baku had never heard of.

Finally he finished and put the pen down with a tremendous sigh. 'See!' he cried, 'told ya I could draw a map!'

For a moment they all just sat in silence, staring down at the childish, and yet somehow extraordinarily advanced, drawings on the paper. Eventually the boss snatched it up off the table and stared at it hard for a very long time. He swallowed and turned his gaze to the smiling boy in front of him.

'Zidane... how did you... how... how did you _know_ all this?'

The blonde's smile faded abruptly and he stared up at the ceiling, rubbing his chin. 'I... I'm not sure...I just... _know_.'

Baku threw the map on the table. 'What the hell is that supposed to mean? What is this? This... Outer Continent? I've never bloody heard of it before but you've not only drawn it but located several cities on it! Have you been there?'

'I don't think so. I don't remember...' Zidane was beginning to look quite distressed.

'Maybe that's where he's come from?' Zenero suggested, staring blankly at the map.

'No,' the troubled boy replied. 'I'm not from any of those continents...'

'You can't just know this stuff, Zidane!' Blank argued. The blonde realized that his older brother looked frightened. In fact, they all looked frightened.

'Yeah, someone must've taught it to you!'

'No... no one taught it to me! I just know this stuff!' His voice had taken on a hysterical note now. He stood up on his chair.

'Liar! How'd you know all these places? Where the hell is... Conde Petie? What is that? a city?'

'I DONT KNOW! I don't know what these places are I don't know -'

'And what about this... this... Ipsen's Castle...? Isn't that just a fairy tale?'

Something snapped behind Zidane's eyes. 'I don't know! I don't know how I know this! Don't ask me I don't know-' He grabbed the map from the table and began tearing it into shreds. Tears were streaming his cheeks now, tears of confusion and utter terror. 'I don't know I don't know anything anything anything stop asking me I don't know just shut up shut up leave me alone LEAVE ME ALONE I DONT KNOW ANYTHING-'

Baku reached across the table and scooped him up in one aggressive movement and walked briskly toward the front door with Zidane in his arms shrieking in a voice tinged with a terrifying madness that echoed through the hideout long after Baku had slammed the door behind him.

_XXXX_

The hot mug of coco sat on a slightly dirty table, untouched. A pair of shaking hands encircled it, absorbing the heat through the china mug. People were sat at other tables like theirs, chatting cheerfully to one another, eating and drinking. Outside the spring sun beat warmly down onto the streets of Lindblum.

Zidane was still trembling. His face had the haunted look of a man who had just seen his life flash before his eyes. The boss of Tantalus leaned over the wooden table and patted his hand.

'Feelin' better?'

The little boy nodded but didn't look up from his coco.

It had taken Baku at least fifteen minutes to calm him down. He'd taken him down to a secluded part of the dock, still kicking and screaming, because he didn't want people to see the little boy whose mind was slipping away. He tried talking to him, shouting at him, but in the end he resorted to punching the child to shut him up. It worked and he did quiet down, nursing the rising lump appearing on his face. When the boss was sure he wasn't going to have any more breakdowns he took him to a rundown cafe in the outskirts of Lindblum and brought him a mug of coco, and himself the strongest, blackest mug of coffee money could buy.

'So... what happened?' he asked, slurping his coffee.

Zidane shrugged and fingered his black eye tentatively. 'I'm not sure. It was like... like... a light had come on in my mind. I realized that I knew all that stuff. Just _knew_ it. Like it had... had been

_(programmed)_

taught to me when I

_(had been created)_

was real little, you know? Everything just... kinda fell into place. Like a really easy puzzle. I've never been to those places, never seen a map with those places on. But I just _know_ they're there. I know how big mountains are and how deep the sea is. It's like I... I...was meant to know everything about the planet I'm

_(meant to destroy)_

living on. I can't really explain it very well. Sorry...'

Deep in the boss' mind, he was screaming. Screaming that this child wasn't normal. He was... _unnatural. _That what the kid knew was unnatural. What he _was_ was unnatural. Baku had been traveling for years and years and never once had he seen a child with a tail. Ever. Right now, the deep recesses of his mind were telling him to ditch the kid. Leave him. Forget him.

Instead, he waved a hand dismissively. 'Never mind. Let's just forget it, ay? Whoever was lookin' after ya before I found ya must've been a real slave driver to make you learn all that rubbish.'

Zidane nodded, looking better. 'Guess so...' He sipped his coco and found it to be cold. 'Can I have another one? This one's cold...'

'No you bloody well can't!' the boss roared. 'Shoulda drunk it faster! You think I'm made of gil, ya little runt? C'mon. Let's head back.'

Zidane looked wistfully at the mug of untouched coco then leapt up from the table and dashed with his usual energy out the door.

_I just _knew_ it..._

Baku shook his head and decided to forget the little occurrence ever occurred.

Little did he know that this was just the tip of the iceberg in relation to Zidane's uniqueness.

He tipped the waitress as he left and tried to catch up with the little tailed boy.

Three days later he found the map under his bed and promptly blamed Cinna, who happened to be nearest at the time.

_Haha. Silly man. I like looking at Zidane's Genome side. It kinda makes sense…I don't think Garland would of just sent him to Gaia without all the right information first, you know? Anyway, if you don't review I'll…I'll…::think::… KILL BLANK!! HAHAHAHA!!!!_


	10. Girls

_A/N: This chapter contains lots of sexual themes that may leave you feeling awkward. If you don't like that stuff then skip this chapter. It's only really about how Zidane develops his... um... 'taste' for skirt chasing -grin-_

**Chapter 10: Girls**

Zidane neither liked nor disliked Alexandria. In his opinion, it lacked the sheer size and bustle of Lindblum, but on the other hand the people were friendly and the streets were filled with a bubbly atmosphere that his hometown lacked. Tantalus rarely visited Alexandria though because the markets were small and the city was heavily guarded. They had fewer contacts here in comparison to the other places they traveled to as well, making it difficult to thieve anything substantial. Tantalus only visited Alexandria to perform or to have a break.

In this case it was the latter. With summer edging toward autumn the performance period had ended so Baku let Tantalus have their annual 'holiday' during this time. Thieving inevitably still took place but it was more out of habit than necessity.

During this period the boss rented out a small house along Traverse Street, or simply booked up a few hotel rooms for about two weeks and let the boys do whatever they wanted, which basically consisted of them hanging around bars, winding up the Alexandrian knights and lazing on the nearby beach. This time Baku had gotten them three hotel rooms in a homely inn on the outskirts of the city.

Currently, Zidane was ambling alongside his brothers Blank and Marcus, hands in pockets, staring up at the star speckled sky. It was edging onto midnight and the streets were practically deserted. Their path was lit occasionally by puddles of amber streaming in from windows with candles flickering on their sills. The twin moons blazed over head.

The three thieves were on their way to meet with the rest of their troupe in Carlo's Bar. The boss was a long-term acquaintance of the owner meaning that the underage boys could drink to their hearts content without interference from the law.

Suddenly a girl barely scraping womanhood emerged from a shady alleyway to their right, wrapped in a heavy, yet cheap looking, fur coat. Her eyes looked tired but the corners of her lips were pulled into a coy smile. She stepped forward slightly to reveal a pale thigh.

'You boys looking for a good time?' she cooed, primarily eyeing Blank.

They didn't slow their gait as they passed her by but Blank turned round long enough to flash her a smile and to throw a bag of coins in her direction.

'It's not much,' he said, 'but it should be enough to get you a room in a hotel for the night.'

She looked taken aback but didn't hesitate in scooping up the money and tucking it away beneath the folds of her coat.

Zidane looked up at the red head with a mixture of confusion and surprise. 'What d'ya do that for?'

Blank shrugged. 'Just 'cause I woulda felt bad otherwise. She was only a kid.'

'So? I'm only a kid and I don't get money thrown at me like that!'

'No, but you don't do what she does.'

Zidane entwined his hands behind his head. 'What's that?'

Marcus raised an eyebrow in what was either amusement or surprise - it was hard to tell with Marcus - and Blank scratched his cheek awkwardly.

'Mmm... Maybe you should ask boss.'

'Why can't you tell me?'

'Just... because...'

'You always say that! Tell me! I'm not a kid anymore!'

'I don't wanna tell you! Why do you always ask me? Why can't you ask someone else for a change?'

Zidane sighed and ceased his onslaught of questions. He figured it might be something to do with that thing called 'sex'... the thing you do when you want to make a baby. What was exactly involved in making babies he wasn't sure, all he knew was that you needed a guy and a girl to do it and that Blank had done it because the members of Tantalus made light jokes about it for about a week afterwards and Blank seemed both pleased and embarrassed about it.

Zidane shrugged it off but made a mental note to ask the boss about it later.

Carlo's Bar came into view and the boys sighed in relief. They'd been walking for a good hour to get to this place.

Marcus pushed the swinging doors open and the trio was greeted by a waft of smoke, the stench of sweat and beer and the subdued banter of the remaining customers. The bar owner was cleaning a glass with a cloth and offered them an amiable nod of recognition. They spotted their boss, Ruby, Cinna, Zenero, Benero and Genero in a corner and went to join them.

Zidane pulled up a chair, twisted it round and straddled it while his red headed elder attempted to squeeze onto the end of a bench next to Ruby.

'Na-aw, partner,' she chirped, giving Blank a sly sidelong glance. 'You gonna buy me a drink first?'

Blank sighed. 'Why me? Why do I have to buy you one? Can't you ask Cinna?'

Ruby batted her dark eyelashes and shoved Blank off the edge of the bench. ''Cause you're a gentleman, an' gentlemen gotta buy the lady a drink.'

Cinna waved a fist furiously at the younger girl. 'What's that supposed t' mean? I'm twice the gentleman Blank is!'

'In yer dreams, darlin''

'Man that hurts! I always-'

'Alright alright! Geez don't argue over it! I'll go get your stupid drink...'

Ruby smirked with satisfaction and threw Zidane a sly wink which provoked Baku into a fit of eardrum-bursting laughter.

_Girls always get their way with guys_, the blonde thought, his tail twitching slightly. _What is it that gets guys so worked up? So under the thumb? _

They drank until the owner politely asked them to leave. By then the troupe was fairly drunk (Zidane could be classed as a little more than 'fairly' drunk as he was so young and could barely handle the alcohol) but the night didn't seem to be over yet. Once outside in the cold night air Baku promptly announced they were going to be visiting 'some of Alexandria's finest.'

'Wassat?' Zidane slurred, genuinely confused.

The boss turned a knowing eye toward him. 'Not for little kids, that's what it is.'

The tailed boy scowled and pouted. 'Quit treating me like a kid!'

They all chuckled but still no one explained what 'Alexandria's finest' meant.

'You're goin' back to the hotel,' the boss ordered, crossing his thick arms.

'I suppose I'll go back too,' Ruby sighed, rolling her eyes. 'I doubt there's anything there for _me_.'

The chuckles rose again but Zidane continued to scowl with confusion. An order was an order though, and Zidane's head felt too swimmy to bother arguing with the boss tonight, so as the boys and Baku took a narrow alley Zidane trundled - well, staggered would be a more appropriate word - after the silver haired girl in the opposite direction.

'S'not fair,' he whined. 'Jus' 'cause I'm the youngest don't mean that I can be left outta all these fings...'

Ruby giggled but said nothing. It made Zidane bristle. Why wouldn't people just tell him what was going on?

Later on, he wouldn't be able to recall if it was the alcohol that made him do it or a sheer impulsion that was akin to his personality, maybe both, but as Ruby turned left into the square Zidane jumped onto a stack of crates to his left, then to a drainpipe and shimmied up onto the roof and darted away, heedless of an angry sounding Ruby calling his name.

He knew he was disobeying the boss (it was not his first time and by no means his last) but he just had to know what they were doing, where they were going and why he was being left out.

The twelve year old stood atop the highest point of the building and scanned the streets below with his keen eyesight. He couldn't see his fellow band mates, but he could certainly hear their drunken, raucous shouts.

Without a second thought he pursued them, silently pouncing from roof to roof like a cat, ducking into dark slices of shadow and out again with practiced efficiency. He was a thief after all and he didn't find it at all odd that he was able to preform these stunning acrobats while under the influence of alcohol...

Finally he spotted them. Their disruptive banter had become strangely subdued as they stood before a weather-beaten door. A lit sign swung above, reading 'Madam Cura's Shelter'. The boss was talking to a plump lady who was standing in the entrance. He presented her with a bag full of money and she stepped aside, allowing them passage into the 'shelter.'

Watching from a rooftop, Zidane scratched his chin thoughtfully. He didn't know what this place was, and got the distinct feeling he really shouldn't be snooping around either, but his curiosity was burning fiercely in the pit of his belly. He couldn't go back to the inn now!

The tailed boy clambered down from his hiding place and approached the lady at the door. Up close she looked fearsome. Her hair was a mass of tangled curls resting against her shoulder like an untamed animal and her eyes were hollow and listless - like she'd had her soul sucked right out of her, Zidane thought.

'And what can I do for you?' she asked, eyeing him was faint amusement.

Zidane scratched his mop of hair. 'Um... Can I... well... erm...'

'You wanna come in and have some fun?'

The boy shrugged. 'I guess so.'

'Well, you gotta pay first and you don't look like you got half a Gil on yer.'

'That's not true!' he protested, and produced a bag of coins that he always kept on him.

The woman took it and eyed the contents with distaste. 'There's gotta be only 300Gil in here!'

_Only_?!

'Hm...' She studied him again. 'Well you're pretty young so I guess you'll want someone about your age. With this Gil I could give you Rosie I suppose... but you'll only be getting about ten minutes with her.'

_What's this lady on about?_ 'Um...'

'Come on then.' She stood aside and Zidane stared into the dimly lit corridor. 'Well hurry up we aint got all night! Go down there, third door on your right. Diamond will show you to your room.'

_Oh. It must be an inn. 300Gil for a ten minute stay in an inn? What is boss thinking? _The boy could have backed away then but his curiosity still wasn't fulfilled so he proceeded to travel along the dirty, unadorned hallway. He lingered outside the door on the right and pressed his ear against it, listening for the sound of his brothers. He really didn't want to get caught now after paying all that money.

Satisfied that he couldn't hear the boss he entered and was greeted by a room of scantly clad women, all lounging around on expensive pieces of furniture. Vases of feathers lined the room and the air smelt strongly of perfume.

Zidane gulped. _What... am I doing?_

'Well well, you're a youngun aren't cha?' a woman chirped. Her eyelids were smeared with a blue paste that made her azure eyes stand out. 'Who you here for?'

_What's the hell is going on?_ 'Um... I think that woman at the door said I could get... Rosie?'

The woman nodded and screamed Rosie's name so loudly Zidane gave a mighty start, his tail bristling. A girl who looked about his age, maybe a touch older, detached herself from the small collection of women and approached him. She was pretty, Zidane thought immediately. Her hair was a waterfall of dark curls, her brown eyes doe like, rimmed with feathery lashes. She bowed politely to him but didn't smile.

'Hi,' Zidane chirped and the women around him tittered, making him feel even more confused.

She looked up at him without amusement. 'Follow me.' Her voice sounded raspy.

Zidane did as he was told, sparing a glance over his shoulder at the room one last time. The women had gone back to lounging on the furniture.

_What is this place?_

Rosie took him to a room out the back that was devoid of any furniture save an extravagant bed covered in a heavy red blanket and numerous pillows. He closed the door behind him. The alcohol was wearing off but his head was still swimming. He couldn't get a grasp on the situation but had the feeling that he'd gotten himself into some deep trouble.

The girl stood in front of him, inches in front of him in fact, so close he could clearly smell not only her perfume but also the sweet scent of her skin. He gulped and edged away a little, suddenly very aware that all she was wearing was a skimpy, silken robe.

'What's you're name?' she purred, closing the gap between them again.

'Er... Z-Zidane...'

'Well Zidane, how do you like it?'

'Wh-what? I don-'

'Don't you want me, Zidane?'

The tailed boy acutely felt his face beginning to burn. His confusion was being replaced with a terrifying realization that shook him to the very core and made his mind buzz. This was a place where people came and... and had...

'What's the matter?' she cooed, her breath brushing his skin and suddenly she was reaching toward the opening of her robe and it was falling to the carpet in a cloud silk.

Zidane had never seen a naked girl before. Occasionally he would see more than he expected when around Ruby, her shirts were cut devastatingly low and her skirt barely skimmed her thighs. He'd also seen her in her underwear too, but nothing like this...

The dark haired beauty stood before him completely naked. Her bare skin as white as lilies, her curves smooth and perfect, taut nipples the colour of plum. Zidane's heart was doing overtime, his pulse pumping violently in his ears. His thoughts were as unreachable as stars and there was an unfamiliar burning in the pit of his belly.

She whispered his name and reached up, encircling her slender arms around his neck, firm breasts pressng against his chest, her lips closing the distance and capturing his. She didn't taste very nice. In fact she tasted of smoke. But Zidane could hardly think, let alone respond, as she started moving against him and -

The door burst open and Zidane felt a pressure on his neck as he was pulled violently backwards out of her kiss and embrace, falling on his ass. The girl released a startled cry but didn't bother covering herself up as Zidane was dragged backwards out the door by his collar, skidding along the dirty corridor floor and out into Alexandria's cold streets.

Reality came flooding back and he twisted around out of the firm grasp, jumping up and crouching into a fighting stance, teeth bared.

Baku stared down at him, eyes furrowed by his thick brow.

_Uh-ohhh..._

'You...' he growled, 'are in _big_ trouble.'

Zidane stood up and scratched the back of his head, for the first time in his life at a complete loss for words. He merely stared down at the cobblestones.

The boss turned round and headed out into the streets. Zidane reluctantly followed, feeling slightly clearer headed. He spared a glance back at 'Madam Cura's Shelter' and saw the woman in the doorway bargaining with another man who had come to have one of the girls. Zidane felt his face begin to burn again as the memory returned.

'Sorry, boss,' the boy said suddenly. 'I didn't know that... that place was... What is that place?'

'It's called a brothel,' Baku replied shortly, still striding ahead of the youngest Tantalus member.

'Oh.'

'Guess I shoulda told you about all that sooner. Didn't realize you'd grow up so fast, is all. Kinda thought you knew about it anyway.'

'I kinda did but...' He shrugged.

Baku then proceeded on giving Zidane 'the talk'. The boy realized he knew about most of it anyway, snippets he'd heard his older brothers talk about, but it was nice to finally get all his suspicions confirmed. The boss said he was more angry that Zidane had disobeyed him rather than what he was going to do with the girl. He said that it was none of is business what the boys did in their spare time as long as it didn't directly concern Tantalus.

It was then that Zidane realized exactly why guys would go out of their way for girls.

_Hehe, I don't know about you but I like this chapter! I debated alot about how to make Zidane realise he really liked girls, and this was the most interesting idea, I think lol. Please leave a review and check out Paper Roses if you haven't already! Thankies!_


	11. Home

**Hi guys! Dankies for the reviews. Sorry bout delay. This be a long chapter to make up for it...I hope.**

**Chapter 11: Home**

'_The sign that I couldn't read  
__Or the light I couldn't see  
__Some things you have to believe  
__While others are puzzles, puzzling me.'  
_-Coldplay, Speed of Sound

Staring up at a sky filled with iron-gray clouds scudding past on a biting wind, Zidane wondered, and not for the first time, about whether leaving Tantalus had been the wisest of decisions.

As the answer once again deftly evaded his grasp, he averted his gaze to the west and noticed with distaste that the clouds were thickening. In the distance he could see gray veils hanging like curtains from their widths, showing promise of rain. And lots of it.

The blonde sighed and continued wading through the ankle deep mud, which slathered the great plain he was currently crossing like sickly icing. He imagined that the plain would not be so bad in the summer, covered with lush grass, rabbits grazing here and there, the occasional splash of wild flower perhaps, but winter transformed this place into a dreary, bleak, muddy landscape that Zidane was quickly beginning to dislike.

The Mist was also a constant source of worry here. It swirled around him like a living creature, creating illusions and blanketing the landscape. Sometimes the thirteen-year-old would hear an inhuman screech that turned his blood to ice, other times a shadowy bulk would shift around in the Mist just outside the edge of his vision and when he whirled around, dagger in hand, it was gone, leaving him panting with fear. Despite the chilly atmosphere, already, his clothes were sticky with sweat.

In front of him mountains dominated the scenery, their fantastic bulks rearing from the soggy plains. To his right a dark smear stretched around him, a forest. If he wandered too far to the left he would end up knee deep in marsh sludge, smell its rancid scent and hear unseen frogs croaking their monotonous call. If he looked behind he would see the distant form of Lindblum dominating the south, but the Mist may have already hidden it. He didn't know because he didn't look back. Looking might make him feel regret. Feel bad. Turn around and go home.

Home.

Ah yes, _home_. The word that started this mess.

A cry to his right rudely ripped him from his thoughts. His tail bristled and all the hairs on the back of his neck stood on end, his hand immediately resting on the cold hilt of his dagger. A shape formed in the Mist. It was lumbering silently forward and he could hear its ragged inhuman breath, see its awkward lumbering gait. Just before it came into view it made an odd croaking noise and for an insane instant Zidane actually thought it was just a rather large toad.

He wasn't far off.

A Gigan Toad lumbered out of the Mist and turned a bulbous yellow eye in the thirteen-year-old's direction. Zidane gulped and felt his knees go weak with fear. He had been training to fight with Tantalus for most of his life but up until now he had only ever practiced fighting with his brothers, or _watched _them fight monsters. He had never seen one up close let alone fought one alone. And this monster looked so vile. Its back was covered in large, pussy warts and its gaping mouth was full of needle like teeth, smeared green with some sort of fungus. A croaking noise emitted from the back of its throat and a putrid smell followed close behind.

_Alright, Zidane, you can do this! Just remember what the boss taught you..._

The tailed boy held his breath and lunged forward. The Gigan Toad tottered gracelessly back in surprise but Zidane was already past its defenses, using speed and surprise as a weapon. He sliced through its side with his dagger and cried out in shock when he found its flesh to be rubbery. The toad's skin had looked squishy and weak, but even when Zidane had sliced it with all his might only a slight gash had appeared, a bubble of purple blood erupting from its corner.

Yet despite this shallow wound the monster gave a mighty cry of rage, it's amber eyes swiveling madly to capture Zidane in its sight. The boy jumped away, dagger held out in an offensive stance, and the toad attacked, launching forward with tremendous force and surprising speed, knocking the boy clean off his feet. Quick to recover, the blonde flipped in the air and landed safely on the ground, rolling quickly to the side to avoid a second ambush the foul looking monster was issuing. As it charged past him Zidane dashed to its rear, stabbing the things lower back twice before the toad regained its senses and spun round, wailing in pain. But it was fast. It lunged at the boy, mouth agape, and bit the arm Zidane had thrust out with initial instinct to shield himself. He cried out in pain as the needle teeth pierced through flesh. For a terrifying instant he thought the toad would not let go and tear forearm from elbow, but he released him and hot blood gushed from four jagged holes.

Momentary dizziness claimed the boy and as he struggled to clear his blurring vision the Gigan Toad tackled him again, sending him head over heels into the gluttonness marsh beyond. Clammy mud filled his ears and mouth and even though he tried to cough it up more entered, sliding down his throat in slimy globules. He battered the surface with his free hand - the other grasping the dagger - but it slapped uselessly onto the slimy surface. He heard the ominous croak of the monster and realized in the same instant that he was sinking, the mud slurping round his cheeks, covering his lips in a sticky, cold kiss. He stretched out once again and his fingers brushed grass - blessed, cold, muddy grass. He stretched as hard as he could, eyes filling with tears of sheer desperation and finally he grasped a tuft and began pulling, pulling, pulling, toward solid ground.

But even when he was back on the soggy land he had no time to gather his wits. The Gigan Toad appeared once again and launched itself at the mud-covered boy, who narrowly managed to avoid it. Zidane gave a cry of anger and leapt onto its unprotected back, too angry to be repulsed by the bulbous wart which burst and oozed green puss as he stabbed his dagger over and over and over and over into the toad's body. Even when it was dead, crashing unceremoniously to the floor with a devastated, distorted croak, dancing a little death-jig, Zidane continue to tear it apart.

The rain signaled the end of Zidane's first ever kill.

The thirteen-year-old ceased his futile assault, dagger falling limply to the wet ground. Still straddling the stinking toad's corpse, he stared up into the sky. Heavy clouds stretched out before him and he let the thick, iron droplets pummel his battered form. His arm throbbed and he felt the hot blood trickle down his arm. His fingers were numb. And he was suddenly very, very tired.

He dropped down from the monsters back and retrieved his dagger, wiping its bloodstained surface on the wet grass before sheathing it. Then he dropped to his knees and vomited until nothing more would come up and his tummy muscles hurt and his throat stung with bile. Once that was done he continued his walk across the great plain, Lindblum an invisible mound behind him, the mountains a tremendous presence before him, the marsh an ominous adversary to the west of him and the forest a brooding mass to his right.

_XXXX_

_Two days earlier..._

Zidane Tribal awoke with a scream clawing up his throat.

He had bolted upright upon awakening and clapped his hands over his mouth in a physical attempt to prevent its imminent release. His breathing was fast and heavy. His tail was bristled out. Sweat stung his bulging eyes.

For a moment he merely sat there, as people do after nightmares, assuring himself that he was awake. He was fine. It had all been a dream. And then finally trusting himself to be silent, he lowered his hands to his lap and breathed a great sigh, closing his eyes.

It was the fifth time he'd had the dream. This was the second night in the row.

Immediately he squeezed his eyes tight and tried to pick details from his buzzing mind, already sharpening from being awake.

A light.

A... _blue _light?

_Dammit_.

He curled his hands into fists and beat his knees. He could never remember anything beside that! Usually it wouldn't bother him but he had an inkling that the dream was important, and it frustrated him no end to find that when he awoke all he could recall was a stupid blue light and a... a...

Feeling of comfortable familiarity.

Wherever this place was he'd been there before, he was sure of it. But it wasn't Lindblum or Alexandria or Treno or any of the other places he'd been. And there was something else...something that he couldn't quite put his finger on... a feeling? A word? A -

'Yo, Zidane, you alright, man?'

The thirteen-year-old nearly leapt clean out of his skin in fright as the voice erupted harshly out of the nighttime darkness.

'Holy crap, Blank! You scared the goddamn living Eidolon right outta me! Ever heard of whispering?' he snarled, clutching his chest and feeling the frantic hammering of his heart beneath his balled fist. 'Trying to gimmie a heart attack or something?'

He heard the red head chuckle. 'Sorry, man. Could tell you were awake and wondered what was up. Third time you been up in a week. Usually you sleep like a log addicted to sleeping weed.'

Despite the crack, Zidane could hear the genuine concern behind his older brother's inquiry. 'I've been having nightmares, that's all.'

'Oh yeah?' Zidane could picture Blank's raised eyebrow. 'What about?'

The thirteen-year-old shrugged. 'Dunno. Don't remember much, to be honest. Just a li...never mind.'

He heard Blank tut. 'Oh come on, don't leave me hanging!'

Embarrassed, Zidane lay back down with his back to his brother, tail thumping against the cover irritably. 'It's about a blue light, okay?'

'That all?'

'Yes.'

Silence.

'Geez, after all that shit, you're such a goddamn pussy Zid - hey!'

Upon hearing Blank's inevitable taunt Zidane had promptly lobbed a pillow in his direction and gotten the satisfaction of hearing a direct hit. 'I am _not _a pussy! That's only _part _of the dream anyway...'

They lay in comfortable silence for a while, listening to the familiar sounds of the hideout echo around them. From the window they could see the twin moons peering inside, letting their wan light filter to the ground in pools of milky white. Zidane wrapped himself in the covers, relishing their comforting warmth.

'So... what do you think that blue light means?' Blank asked suddenly.

Zidnae stifled a yawn. 'Dunno. I aint afraid of it though... more... drawn to it... like I...' Another yawn. 'Belong there or... somethin'...'

'Oh... why was it a nightma...a night...' Apparently yawns were highly contagious. 'A nightmare?'

The boy grunted, too tired to give an accurate reply.

'Maybe... the blue light was... your home?'

Zidane was suddenly very awake. The feeling that plagued him suddenly made sense and sleep was abruptly forgotten.

_XXXX_

Home.

Home.

Home.

As much as he thought it he could never clearly identify the feeling that accompanied it. He didn't remember anything before Tantalus. No faces, no names no places. Just a blue light. The only clue to his heritage. As soon as Blank said that he knew that's what his dreams were about and immediately became restless. He left the next day, spurred by impulsive determination to find his home and his real parents. He left without saying a word, in fear of his brothers trying to restrain him from leaving and the look of possible betrayal on the boss's face, and although he felt guilty and somewhat of a traitor, his eagerness to venture out into the world and locate his birthplace overwhelmed any trace of doubt.

But now, alone in a landscape riddled with death traps and with a meager food supply, a battered tent and blistered-covered feet, his determination was beginning to waver very slightly.

But only very _slightly_.

The rain pounded against him relentlessly. The mountains were now a silent, intimidating companion directly beside the boy but he favored that compared to the great, misty expanse of the field which it had replaced. At least nothing could emerge from the rock... he hoped. And, he reasoned with himself, he only had three sides to watch now; back, front and right.

Suddenly a shriek pierced through the heavy sheets of rain and veils of Mist.

This was no monster's shriek though; it was most definitely the shriek of a human in distress.

Without a second thought Zidane drew his weapon and sprinted toward where the scream had emitted. As the Mist grudgingly swirled aside for him an ominous dark shape loomed ahead. For a moment the blonde thought it was a rock but when its hidden form shuddered he realized with mounting terror that the thing was a monster. And not just any monster.

He stood before it, fully taking in the fearful sight.

The sight of a Grand Dragon.

For a moment all he could do was tremble, quivering mouth agape, dagger trembling loosely in one hand. It was enormous! It's tail as thick as tree trunks, torso larger than the a Lindblum house, its lips pulled back in a terrifying snarl, revealing three sets of pointed teeth. In the back of his mind something told him to run, to flee, but when a movement to his left caught his eye he knew instantly he couldn't retreat yet.

Lying on the soggy grass, being pelted with rain, was the Grand Dragon's prey. A Burmecian girl. She was sprawled in front of it, desperately trying to hoist herself up but Zidane could see the blood pulsing from her mouth, see the horrific angle her right arm was twisted in, see the numerous cuts that adorned her trembling body.

The Grand Dragon, still oblivious to Zidane's presence, took a menacing step toward her, the mere footstep making the ground tremble. He knew he had to act quickly so did the first thing that came into his head.

'Hey! Hey you, stupid dragon, over here!' he shouted at the top of his lungs. 'Why don't you pick on someone your own size?!'

This absurdity of this taunt was lost on Zidane whose mind was overwhelmed with fear and adrenalin.

But it worked. The grand Dragon's head swiveled toward the boy, emitting an irritated roar.

'Yeah, yeah! Dumb lizard! Come and get me if you can! Come on I dare ya!'

The dragon lurched forward, tail thrashing violently.

'What in Eidolon's name do you think you're doing, kid?!' a voice yelled. 'Get out of here!'

Zidane's eyes darted to the Burmecian momentarily before darting back to the advancing dragon. 'I cannot leave a damsel in distress in her time of need!'

'Oh you idiot, you'll get yourself killed!'

'So will you if I don't do something!'

This silenced the wounded girl and the tailed boy focused his attention back on the dragon. Just as it charged into reaching distance Zidane darted to the side and sprinted toward the girl. The dragon roared and spun round, preparing to pursue the boy.

'Can you stand?' Zidane panted, approaching her immobile form.

'Does it look like it?' she snapped in return.

'Alright, quickly, get on my back.'

'What?!'

'Shut up and get on it's coming hurry!'

He crouched down and she clambered on. He staggered at first, finding it difficult to support someone who was a good few heads taller than he, but then he was off, narrowly evading the dragons advancing jaws.

'We'll never outrun it!' the Burmecian cried in dismay.

'Trust me.'

Zidane headed toward the blur of trees in front of him, gritting his teeth and bending forward as far as he dared. Behind him he could hear the ominous thuds of the enraged dragon's pursuit and this was more than enough to spur his speed.

'Quickly it's catching up!'

'Shut yer trap, woman!'

Already the land beneath his feet was hardening, the soil becoming coarser and the grass giving way to a tangle of twigs and rotting leaves. Zidane thought he could almost feel the dragon's scorching breath of his back as he launched himself and the girl headfirst into the thick knot of trees. The dragon got caught in the net of trunks and roared in disgust, desperately trying to worm its way in. Zidane stood staring at its struggling form dubiously for a moment, then decided not to risk it and entered the forest at a light jog.

After walking no more than ten minute the exhausted thirteen-year-old collapsed in the bough of a pair of gigantic roots, allowing the girl to clamber down. He was sweating profusely and panting terribly, but he managed a charming grin at the Burmecian nonetheless.

'So?' he said. 'What's ya name?'

The girl stiffened and eyed him suspiciously at first, but then relaxed and removed her helm, causing a cascade of silver hair to tumble down her back.

'Thank you for saving my life,' she said. 'My name is Freya.'

**Yay! Hope you enjoyed this chapter, if you did, please be kind enough to leave a review. Thanks.**


	12. Antics Of A Monkey: Part I

_Thank you so much for the reviews! I thought long and hard about how Freya and zid should meet, hopefully this is kinda original! Anyway, enjoys this chap, guys!_

**Chapter Twelve  
****Antics Of A Monkey, Part I**

Despite being not far past midday, the forest was obtrusively dark. Vast clumps of leaves knitted together to form a thick balcony above, which grudgingly refused sunlight access to the ground below. Occasionally a splash of gold filtered through and the plants battled feverishly for that spot, greedily soaking up the warmth. Elsewhere, it was decidedly cool, the environment bathed in subdued shades of inky blues and greys. Insects hummed from unseen places and the thick trunks were a foreboding, silent presence.

Hidden within the crook of a large tree's snaking roots, intruders into this dank environment drank in their surroundings cautiously.

'Tough luck, huh?'

The Burmecian girl turned her disdainful gaze to the boy in front of her. No more than thirteen, she guessed, he was clearly a ragamuffin street urchin from a nearby city. He was caked in foul smelling swamp mud from chin to toe, dried blood slathered up one arm, but his bright eyes bore into hers with such profound confidence and intelligence that she was endeared to him nonetheless.

'It is,' she replied.

'How're yer wounds?'

Freya flexed her arms experimentally and pain rippled through her chest and shoulders.

Her face must have been ample answer enough because the boy said, 'I'm not a doctor but I reckon some Pina-Pina weed will fix those wounds up. Should be some growing under a rock somewhere here abouts. I'll go find some and then we can start a fire. I guess we'll be staying the night, unless you want to move further into the forest?'

'Hm? Oh no, here will be quite adequate.'

The blonde nodded and stood, allowing Freya to notice his tail. She quickly averted her stare to avoid seeming rude.

'I'll go then, be back in a sec. I'll look for food too,' he added, walking away into the tangle of trees. 'I do have a food supply but it's not big enough for the both of us so I suppose -'

'Why are you helping me so?' the girl asked suddenly.

The boy shrugged. 'You don't need a reason to help people.'

Any initial distrust and coldness toward the boy immediately vanished, his reply warming the Burmecian profoundly, and she said, 'What's your name?'

Already hidden amidst the crowd of trees she heard him call, 'Zidane!' before disappearing out of earshot.

_XXXX_

The youth named Zidane returned just as Freya was beginning to worry, with a handful of Pina-Pina weed and a pocketful of wild mushrooms, herbs, edible roots and fruit.

'Hardly a feast,' he said, piling the food by the fire Freya had lit, 'but it's fit for travelers, I'm sure.'

The silver haired girl nodded her approval and set about preparing their meal while Zidane busied himself by constructing a makeshift-sleeping base with leaves and blankets.

'We should search for a spring to clean ourselves and refill our water bottles,' Freya suggested as she ground the healing weed into a paste. 'You're wounded as well, I see.'

Zidane shrugged and flashed her a cheeky grin. 'Not half as bad as you. What were you doing taking on a Grand Dragon anyway?'

'I hardly intended the encounter,' Freya retorted. 'They don't usually come this far south. It attacked me and fleeing was not an option.'

'Why?'

'Dragon Knights do not flee.'

Warming his hands by the fire the thief raised an eyebrow. 'You're a Dragon knight? From Burmecia?'

Freya nodded, inwardly cursing herself for bringing the subject up.

'What are you doing here then?'

'That is not your concern.'

The blonde shrugged again. 'Sorry. It's just I've only ever seen one other Burmecian before, so I was curious.'

Freya's attention was piqued. 'You have? Who? What did they look like?'

Zidane brought a hand up to his chin and stared at the canopy. 'Um...I think it was about a year ago in Lindblum. He was really tall, had a blonde moustache and wore a dark blue cape. He also carried this massive spear, like yours.'

'That's him!' Freya yelled, blue eyes sparkling.

'Who?'

'Sir Frately!'

'...Who?'

Freya sighed. 'I doubt he'd still be there... if you saw him a year past...'

'You're looking for him? Is he your brother?'

The silver haired knight shook her head. 'No... He's my... he's a...my... well, I...'

'He's someone important to you,' Zidane supplied.

'Yes.'

'Well... he's not in Lindblum anymore.'

Freya's shoulders drooped.

'But I know where he might be. Word on the street was that he was headed toward a place called - what was it? - Dali...'

'Finally!' Freya cried. 'A clue to Frately's whereabouts! Thank you so much, Zidane, I don't know how to repay you!'

He smiled. 'No problemo. But there is something you can do for me...'

'Oh?'

'Take me with you, to Dali, I mean.'

Freya raised an eyebrow. 'Why's that?'

'Because I'm looking for something too,' he grinned. 'And if I get to look for it with a pretty girl at my side, all the better!'

Freya chose to ignore the comment. 'What you're looking for is in Dali, then?'

'Maybe. I don't know. Is Dali blue?'

'What?'

'Is it blue?'

'Blue as in... sad?'

'No, blue as in...the color of my trousers.' He looked down at his mud caked breeches and laughed. 'Well, they _were_ blue.'

Freya shrugged. 'Maybe. I've never been. You're welcome to accompany me, if you wish, as long as you stay out of my way. Why is the color blue of import to you?'

Zidane stared into the dancing flames, melancholy clouding his azure eyes. 'It's the color of my home, I think. I live in Lindblum with an acting troupe, Tantalus. Boss adopted me when I was a kid and I don't remember anything before that except... except that damned light...'

An understanding yet somehow sad silence enveloped the pair and Zidane reflected briefly upon the unexplainable bond that had abruptly developed between the two.

'Life is a cruel mistress,' Freya whispered. 'We've both lost irreplaceable parts of our lives and must leave family and home to find them.'

The blonde nodded in unspoken agreement and after eating his fill of Freya's stew, he curled up by the fire and fell into a fitful sleep dominated by a blue light.

He awoke to find his surroundings laced with frost. Birds sang in the canopy and the smell of cooking wafted on a chill breeze to greet him.

'You're awake then,' a female voiced chimed and Zidane suddenly remembered where he was.

'Yep! I'm always awake at the crack of dawn,' he crowed, stretching.

Freya raised an eyebrow. 'Crack of dawn? It's edging on midday.'

Zidane gaped. 'What!? Why didn't you wake me?!'

'I tried but you sleep like a rock.'

Zidane giggled and Freya admonished him slightly with a disapproving shake of the head.

'Come on,' she said. 'No time must be squandered. We must make haste to Dali.'

_XXXX_

Thrilled to have someone to speak to, Zidane practically indulged the rather ear-sore Freya with his life story. Despite his perseverance the chatty boy could determine nothing of Freya's past, who was very tight lipped about the whole subject. All he could discern was that the nineteen-year-old left Burmecia to search for Frately at the age of sixteen. He was disappointed to know that Freya, despite her extensive traveling, had known not of a place with a blue light, and for that she was apologetic.

Having run out of things to say, Zidane had now resorted to the next best thing.

'I spy with my little eye...something beginning with...'f'!'

'Fields?' Freya sighed. Ignoring him hadn't worked so now she felt obliged to play his silly game.

'Yep! Your turn!'

'Zidane, for the hundredth time I'm not playing your childish -'

'Ok my turn again! I spy with my little eye...'

'Oh for the love of -'

'Hey look over there!'

Thankful for any distraction Freya turned to see where the boy was pointing and spotted a nymph prancing toward them.

_Could today get any worse? _'Ignore it,' she said. 'She'll keep bugging us for loot otherwise - _Zidane_!'

Heedless of Freya's warning the thirteen year old was bounding toward the green elf with an endearing grin pasted on his features. The Dragon Knight sighed and jogged after the mischievous teenager.

'Hello,' Zidane said to the Nymph. 'What's a pretty thing like you doing in a place like this?'

Freya looked at him in disbelief. 'You're not serious?'

'Ore, please!' the Nymph chimed, swaying hypnotically. Freya noticed with mild distaste that Zidane's eyes were shamelessly drinking in the curves of the Nymph's body.

'Never mind the ores,' he replied. 'How 'bout me and you go someplace quiet and -'

'Ore, please!'

'Persistent aren't you? Alright we'll make a deal.'

'Zidane, cease this foolishness at once!'

'I'll give you an ore if you go on a date with me.'

The Nymph fixed the boy with a cold stare then abruptly turned to Freya. 'Ore, please!'

Zidane hung his head.

'Ore, please!'

Freya rummaged around in her bag and practically threw the ore at the Nymph. 'Take it and go! Irritating thing...'

The Nymph greedily snatched the ore then dashed off into the Mist, leaving behind a rejected Zidane and a fuming Freya.

'That was disgusting,' Freya concluded after a moment.

'What?' he protested. 'Can't a guy get a little fun? You're clearly besotted with Frately so it's not like me and you could -'

'Don't even _suggest_ it,' Freya growled. 'Aren't you a little young to be thinking along those lines? Your voice is still breaking for Eidolon's sake...'

He grinned. 'Nah! I lost my virginity at -'

'Alright, alright, sorry I brought it up. 'She sighed. 'Come on. Dali isn't far now. Gods know I could do with a break from you...'

Yet despite everything Freya couldn't hide her smile or deny the affection she felt toward the frivolous boy.

_I recalled in the game that Zidane mentioned how he'd been to Dali before...so...yeah. Thought I'd incoperate it. Haha I love Zidane's ability to flirt with anything with a pulse lol. Please leave a review! I love them so..._


	13. Antics Of A Monkey: Part II

_A/N: The word vestal is used in this chap and it basically means 'virgin'. In all sorts of beliefs, including Japanese belief, there were vestals assigned to goddesses/gods and if they became tainted (i.e. had sex) then the god/goddess they were affiliated to would send all sorts of nasty things to the place where she was kept. Sorry if you already know but this chap would be confusing if you didn't. Enjoy y'all!_

**Chapter 13: Antics Of A Monkey, Part II**

Dali was by far the quiest place Zidane had ever been. And he had thought Alexandria quiet! The tiny village was surrounded by fields of corn, rippling in the wind like silk. The houses squat and few in number were spaced out along a cobblestone road and in the distance Zidane could make out a temple.

'So this is Dali,' Freya said. 'I hope he's still here...'

'All we can do is ask,' Zidane chirped, beginning the final trek across the field toward the village.

Upon their arrival they spotted what looked like a farm. There were numerous adults tending to the crops and they ceased their work to stare at the odd looking couple approaching them.

'Good day,' Freya greeted cheerfully. 'I'm sorry to disturb you but you mind if I ask you aquestion?'

One farmer detached himself from the group and approached her, wiping sweat from his forehead with his dirty sleeve. 'Aye. What d'ya want?'

'Have you seen another Burmecia pass through this village of late?'

The farmer scratched his beard. 'Aye. But he left a few months back.'

Freya felt the life drain from her being and heard Zidane say her name with symptahy. 'Was he well?'

'Aye,' the farmer replied. 'Helped us on the farm aplenty and asked for nowt in return.

Freya smiled. How like him.

'I'm sorry I couln't be of more help, he didn't say where he was going before he left.'

'That's quite alright, it is enough to know he is alive,' she said, but could not quite mask her sorrow as she strode past the other farmers into Dali town.

'We might as well stay here tonight,' she addressed Zidane.

'I'm sorry, freya,' he said.

'Don't be. I'm used to it.'

'Where will you go now?'

She shrugged. 'Now? I'm going to the nearest bar.'

Zidane nodded his approval and was about to join her when a girl, who had been lingering nearby, caught his eye. A waterfall of brown curls tumbled to the curve of her hip and her large doe-like eyes betrayed her innoence. Her festures were as flawless as a dolls' and her skin was like china.

'Erm... I'll catch up with you,' Zidane said and Freya, upon spotting the object of his distraction, rolled her eyes. 'I wouldn't wait up though,' he added and flashed her a grin before running off.

_XXXX_

It wasn't until Freya was onto her third pint of cider that she fully realised just how much trouble they were in.

There were three men at the bar beside her. Drowning in her sorrows, she was only half listening to their mudane conversation at first, farming and such, but it suddenly took an unexpected turn that made her listen a little more closely.

'Did you see,' one said, 'the Vestal in town today?'

'The Vestal?!' another exclaimed. 'I thought she wasn't allowed to leave the temple!'

'Apparently she can go and collect food and supplies from the shop as long as she has an escort. One of the nuns presumably.'

'When I saw her she was alone,' the third said. 'If she gets defiled we'll be having floods and quakes and famines for years.'

'No one would be so foolish as to defile the holy Vestal,' one sneered. 'They would pay with their life.'

'Aye.'

'Mmm.'

Freya bit her lip. Surely not. She was being presumptious, suspicious even. But the girls robes... her nervousness and innocent yet curious expression... surely not...?

'I'm sorry to interupt, gentlemen,' she said casually, 'but I believe I saw the Vestal too. She's very beautiful, is she not? With her brown curls and snow white robes...?'

'Aye,' one of the men said. 'That's her alright. 'Tis a privildge and a rarity for someone outside the village to lay eye on her.'

'Please excuse me, gentlemen,' Freya apologised, abruptly heading to the door. 'But I have pressing matters to attend to.'

_XXXX_

'Mr Zidane, please - '

'Call me Zidane.'

'... Zidane. I don't think this is appropriate. I can not be defilied -'

'Who said anything about defiling? There's nothing wrong with what we're doing.'

'You don't understand!'

'All I understand is that you're the most beautiful girl I've ever laid eyes on.'

Zidane, laying topless upon the rather flustered looking girl he met in Dali, offered her the most disarming smile he could muster. She took the bait and colour rose to her cheeks.

'But you still don't understand...' she muttered.

He shook his head, loose strands of hair brushing against her rosy cheeks. 'What's there to understand? I want you.'

She smiled nervously and he felt butterflies of anticpation dancing in his lower belly. They were laying between two hay stacks on the outskirts of town, a place where Zidane thought no one wold find them. She had taken much persuading to follow him but she, like most of the others, had been unable to resist his boysish charms and it wasn't long before her skirt was pulled up around her waist and her legs were parted either side of him.

Unable to resist her any longer he closed the gap between them and pressed his lips against hers. She smelt of vanilla and musk and tasted like oranges and when he ran his tongue along her lower lip she moaned, making his head swim with lust. As their kiss deepened she brought her hands up and ensnared them in his hair, arching her chest upward in pleasure as he ran a hand along the inside of her thigh.

'There she is!'

Zidane leapt off the firl who screamed, struggling away and tugging down her skirt. She began reciting verses of forgiveness under her breath to the gods as Zidane turned to face a notably large pack of villagers who branshished pitchforks and expressions of pure hate and anger.

'I told you!' a man cried. 'The devil has disguised himself as a monkey-boy and is defiling the Vestal!'

'You bastard! What have you done?' another cried.

'He has defiled the Vestal!

'We shall suffer plague!'

'Quick! We must dispose of the demon!'

Zidane shook his head. 'Wait a minute, I'm not a -'

'Lies!' a woman hissed. 'He will bring famine!

'Kill him!

'Burn him!'

As they began advancing a blur fell from the sky like a rocket, landing not two feet in front of the boy.

'Look at the mess you've got us in.'

'Freya!' Zidane exclaimed.

'Look out!' a woman snarled. 'A she-devil assists him!'

'Oh shut up,' Freya snapped with an aggressve wave of her spear. 'Come on Zidane, looks like we've outstayed our welcome here. We'll make a run for that cargo ship yonder.'

Literally turning tail, Zidane spotted a cargo ship preparing to take off and fled toward it, Freya and the angry townsfolk not far behind.

'I thought Dragon Knights never flee,' he panted and received a prompt smack round the head with the flat of Freya's spear.

Suddenly the cargo ship began to move and Zidane cursed under his breath and increased his pace, though it was already painfully clear it was going to be close.

'We'll have to leap on before it takes off,' Freya called to him. 'We must hurry.

'You don't need to tell me twice,' the blonde replied, thrashing his tail out of the reach of a pursuing villager.

The cargo ship was running along the fields, picking up speed fast. They ran to the back of it, shielding their eyes from the dust the propellers kicked up. They spotted the ladder just as the ship began inching off the ground.

'Quickly!' Freya yelled, illustrating astonishing skills by leaping the remaining distance to the ladder. She grasped the ladder rungs only just and turned to face the boy still running on the ground.

'Grab my hand!' she yelled.

Yet the ship was still increasing in speed and Zidane had to bend low to decrease air resitence, pumping his legs like he had never done before. The ship was now a metre in the air and quickly ascending with the villagers hot on his tail (literally).

'Jump! Jump!' Freya shrieked above the racket, leaning as far as she dared from the ladder rungs.

Gritting his teeth and knowing he had no choice, Zidane launched himself off the ground and felt several hands skim his back in an attempt to restrain him. Time seemed to slow and the gap between his outstretched hand and Freya's could have been a great gulf that seemed only to widen, widen, widen...

_Oh gods I'm not going to -_

Freya captured Zidane's hand in hers and he swung suspended in midair, the ground a blur beneath him. Yet despite the situation Zidane couldn't help himself and looked down at the villagers, throwing an obscene gesture in their direction.

'Zidane!' Freya hissed between gritted teeth. 'Quit acting like a muppet and swing yourself up or I'll drop you - and I don't mean by accident!'

The boy flashed her a cheeky grin before adhering to her request, thankful to have the firm rungs beneath his palms.

Once they reached the top they lay panting for a few minutes on the deck, glad to escape the angry crowd. Then they leaned over the rails and watched as Dali became lost within the heavy folds of Mist.

'Well, I hope you're satisfied,' the Dragon Knight snapped. 'Because of your wrecklessness the Vestal of Dali was violated, we were chased out of town by farmers carrying pitchforks and now we are stuck on a ship of which the destination is unknown.'

Zidane shrugged. 'There wasn't anything left for us in Dali anyway.'

'Oh you little... That's hardly the point!'

'But I'm right.'

Freya sighed, exhasperated. 'You'll be the death of me, boy. Come on, we better find the captain of this aircraft and ask where it's headed.'

They walked forward along the deserted deck in silence for a while, contemplating what had just happened.

'Freya?' Zidane said.

'Mmm? What now?'

'What's a Vestal?'

_Haha. Love Ziddy and his pimpness. I added the temple in Dali to accomodate the vestal, before anyone points it out! I remember Zid saying something in the game baout having been to Dali before, as well. Please leave a review!_


	14. What You Make It

_Well. It's finished. Finally. I could've gone into depth about Freya's and Zidane's adventures but I decided not to. Maybe I'll leave that for another day. Anyway, big, big, huge massive thank yous to everyone who has supported this fic. I know there's been a hell of a lot of controversy over earlier chapters, which I don't mind! Its been quite a learning curve for me. And so you know, this isn't the end of Tantalus for me, I have many oneshots in mind! Please review one last time on your way out!_

Chapter Fourteen  
_W h a t . y o u . m a k e . I t _

The clock struck three. The bells sang and a flock of pigeons took flight, startled by the noisy intrusion.

Zidane watched the mottled birds glide among the crooked chimneys before turning his gaze back to the clock tower. It was the first building he could recall from his childhood, and seeing it day in day out led to the eventual dismissal of its existence. He took it for granted.

But now, staring up at its crumbling brickwork and crudely maintained clockwork, the thirteen year old felt a surge of affection he had either not experienced beforehand, or had just forgotten completely.

He was home.

_xxx_

"Freya?"

"Mmm?"

"How would you define… home?"

Mist swirled around the propellers. The engine droned so loudly Zidane had to near shout to make himself audible. It took away the sobriety of the question, but he didn't mind. He'd grown to love Freya like a sister over the months (though never would he admit such a thing) but he did not want her to think him soft.

"Home?" she repeated, fiddling with the tip of her lance. "Home is…"

The Mist broke away revealing the stooped peaks of Southern Gate. Zidane felt tingle of anticipation.

"Home is…"

The crew's shouts could be heard above the whirring propellers. The ship glided to a safe speed as the giant gates groaned and the gears grudgingly edged round.

"Home is… whatever you make it."

Zidane tore his gaze away from the opening gates and huffed indignantly. "What's that supposed to mean?"

Freya smiled wryly. "Home is whatever you make it. However you view it, depending on how important it is to you. I bet if you asked around, hardly anyone would say, 'my home is where I was born'. People rarely grow up where they were specifically born."

Zidane's confused stare didn't waver, so Freya continued.

"Remember the Wariri tribe we met on the mountainside?" she asked.

He nodded.

"Well, they were nomadic. They didn't live in one place, but remember what they said when you asked them if they ever missed their home?"

"They said their home went with them."

"You see? Home is what you make it. Whether it's a house or tents you carry. It's a place you feel comfortable and familiar with. A place where you're surrounded by the people you love"

Zidane scratched his chin. "Where's home for you, Freya?"

The dragon knight stared broodingly across the peaks of Lindblum.

"Burmecia, I guess."

"Even though Frately isn't there?"

She nodded. "I love Burmecia, I'd defend it with my life. Everyone I love - save Frately - is there, and I hold a personal attachment to the place that could never diminish. That's what home is, to me anyway. What's home to you, Zidane?"

_xxx_

Freya's words echoed through his mind as he stared up at the hideout. He shuffled his feet and adjusted his backpack, nerves getting the better of him once again. He fleetingly wished for Freya's solid, assertive personality to guide him, but shook his head. It wouldn't do to rely on someone else for a matter so personal. It had been his decision to leave and now he must face the consequences.

He approached the wooden doors and raised a fist, intending to knock. But the thought suddenly seemed ridiculously absurd. He'd never knocked on the Hideout door before, so why now?

_Because people aren't expecting me. Because I've been away for so long. Because I'm scared of what the people inside will think so I'm breaking the news gently…_

But he had never knocked on the Hideout door, and damn it all if he was starting now.

Zidane took a deep, shaky breath and reached forward -

The doors were yanked open from the inside, and an ominous, bulking shadow blocked the entrance.

Zidane gulped.

_xxx_

"Freya, where will you go now?"

Lindblum was bustling but the pair felt strangely alone atop the bridge. The knight stared pensively into the distance, as if she was already restless, already searching for Frately on the horizon.

"You don't have to leave, y'know. You could stay here."

Freya looked at him and smiled with unabated affection and warmth. "If only," she said, "my conscious would allow it."

Zidane looked mildly disappointed. He'd miss her, but he sure wouldn't tell her that. "What will you say when you find Frately?"

The Dragon Knight looked somewhat startled and she blinked several times at the sun. "Well, I… I've never thought about it before." A pause, then she chuckled. "I guess… I'll tell him -"

_xxx_

"You stupid oaf!"

The fist hit him before the words did and Lindblum spun out of view.

"Selfish, ungrateful, insolent little bastard!"

A hit to his abdomen, another to his cheek. Stars burst before his eyes.

"I should have left you to hang, boy! All those profits, all those years I could've spent on another boy _worthy _of being called a Tantalus member."

Now the words were stinging sharper than the blows that exploded upon his skin harder than bricks. He felt hot blood course down his head, lost the feeling in his right arm. He tried to speak but another blow knocked the wind out of him.

"After everything I did for you, this is the thanks I get? You're not worth anyone's time."

Zidane braced himself for another blow but none came. Above the throbbing of blood in his ears, he heard panting. The boy had coiled himself into a defensive ball, what little use that had done, but now he tentatively uncurled, opening an eye.

Baku loomed above him, more intimidating and furious than he ever remembered. He looked dishevelled but still a force to be reckoned with. He was not wearing his goggles, and Zidane could clearly see his hurt, fury and… _relief_.

Zidane managed to get to his feet. There was a darkness around his vision that pulsed and he couldn't prevent himself from swaying on the spot. He raised a shaking hand and wiped blood from his lips, which curled into a shy smile.

"Hi, boss."

_xxx_

Freya, refreshed and looking eager to depart, gripped Zidane's forearm, which he mirrored with vigour.

"It's been fun, Zidane." She smiled. "And enlightening. I shall look upon thieves with less disdain than before."

"You do that," he replied. "Just watch ya purse. And yourself. If Frately hadn't done it already I'd have your heart in my pocket right now."

She rolled her eyes. "Idiot. One of these days you'll meet someone who'll teach you what love is when it travels further up than the buttons on your trousers."

Zidane grinned his dashing grin. "Doubt it! But thanks for the thought anyway."

A pregnant pause ensued that somehow concluded their warrior relationship. Zidane cleared his throat.

"Well, I best be off. I think I've worried boss enough."

"Think he'll let you back into Tantalus?"

"Someone as talented, daring and handsome as I? He can't afford not to."

"Right!" Freya said, throwing her hands up. "Ive had enough of you!" She laughed. "I'm leaving. I'll see you again, Zidane, I don't doubt. And God's hope you've found a little humility in that time." She braced herself for a jump. "Farewell, Zidane."

The thief watched her disappear from sight. "See ya, Freya."

_xxx_

The Hideout hadn't changed a bit since he'd left, though oddly, he thought it would have. Instead, it looked exactly the same as when he'd gone, if not a little tidier.

Zidane picked absently at a splinter on the wooden table with one hand and nursed his discolouring arm with the other. He could hear Baku banging around in the kitchen, searching for his whisky, no doubt.

"I went all round the world, boss," he called. It was a slight exaggeration, but he always loved to elaborate. "I met tons of weird people, went to loads of weird places. I made heaps of friends… a few enemies, none worth mentioning."

Baku re-entered the room with a bottle of half empty whisky and two shot glasses. He gave Zidane a hard, steady stare that the boy couldn't match.

"I guess I am an ungrateful little son-of-a-bitch, aren't I?" he said meekly.

"No… you're an ungrateful insolent little bastard, I think you'll find. But you sure as hell can be both."

Zidane picked harder at the splinter, listening to the _glug _of the whisky as it was poured into the glasses.

"I… I'm sorry I left without saying anything… it was stupid of me."

"Damn right."

"And I'm sorry I was away for so long."

"I'm gonna work yer ass off to make up for lost profits."

Zidane smiled meekly. "I know."

Baku pushed a shot glass over to him. "Drink up. One gulp."

Zidane, who had never tried whisky straight before, did as he was told and spluttered as his insides ignited.

"It'll numb the pain," boss explained, pouring himself another shot. "Good?"

Zidane winced and shook his head. Baku bellowed with laughter. The sound was painfully familiar and comforting, rousing infinite childhood memories.

"Hey, boss," Zidane started. "Y'know… y'know when I got caught for stealin' and was bein' taken to the gallows?"

Baku nodded gravely.

"I never… never said thanks."

The boss shifted, more out of surprise than anything else. "You don't have to. Rule 3 of the Tantalus code: Tantalus brothers always look out for each other."

"Yeah… Well, thanks, anyway."

Baku grunted. "Listen, kid. You may be a pain in ass, but you've got a heart of gold. When you were away I realised that, hell, you're like a son to me but… you can't hang around here forever."

Zidane stared at him, wide eyed. "Huh? I don't ever wanna leave Tantalus!"

"I know ya don't at the moment but… one of these days you're gonna want t' go on to bigger things; it's what you're destined for."

Zidane pouted a little, something very unbecoming for a thirteen year old. "I don't ever wanna leave Tantalus…"

Baku chuckled and downed another shot.

"Did ya find out what you were looking' for?" he asked.

Zidane stopped picking at the splinter. "Not exactly… but that doesn't matter now so much."

"Ya stickin' around then?"

"Sure thing!"

Baku smiled and spread his hands. "We got some pretty big gigs comin' up. You up for that?"

Zidane snorted. "I could do 'em all single handed! I don't need you guys pullin' me down!"

Baku grinned.

"Welcome home, kid."


End file.
